Kept In The Dark
by xxz0eyxx
Summary: When Franchesca comes of age and her home has other intentions for her, she must flee in search of her true family. Little does she know, what she was expecting was way off the mark. With swords, Assassin's and bloodshed at every corner, Franchesca thought she had experienced it all...but she knew all of that even when she was being being kept in the dark elsewhere. AltairxOC
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Assassin's Creed.

**Claimer: **I own the plot for this story, and whoever you do not recognise.

**Kept In The Dark**  
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**Prologue**

_As the courtesan gave one final push - bringing a newborn baby into the world, Madam Gwen wrapped the child in cloth before handing her back to the pale, first-time mother._

_"It's a girl." The Madam smiled down at the twenty year old woman on the bed._

_"A girl..." The new-mother was weak, so weak she could hardly hold the small bundle of joy in her thin arms. "What shall I name her?" The brunette looked up at Madam Gwen for some advice._

_The old courtesan shook her head, smiling. "It's up to you, Rachel...she has beautiful green eyes and tufts of raven hair…I think anything would be lovely."_

_"What about Franchesca? Franchesca Chapman." The new mother closed her eyes, her breathing shortened. "Please, Guinevere...look after her for me?"_

_"Of course I will, my dear." Madam Gwen smiled sadly down at the dying woman. She took the baby out from Rachel's arms and kissed the dying woman's forehead. "I promise - no harm will come to her."_

_"Her father...Demetri-" As the brunette let out a final breath, she closed her eyes for the last time._

_Gwen looked at the courtesan sorrowfully. "Rest in soft peace."_

**Chapter 1**

Franchesca Chapman was now approaching twenty years old, the same age her mother was when she'd died giving birth to her. Although she lived at the brothel with the owner as her guardian - Madam Gwen - she was not a courtesan. She possessed the beauty of one; long raven hair curled at her waist, her skin was a pale pallor and her eyes were a beautiful emerald green.

Some of the men who came to the whore house often asked if they could lay her - but the Madam refused. "I apologise." She'd say. "But she is not a courtesan."

Chesca was a very adventurous nineteen-year old, and would often sneak out at night. Sometimes she'd sit by the docks, or find a field where she could watch the stars. And that's where she was on that night. She pulled her slim legs towards her chest and leant back on her hands to look up at the stars, her hair falling behind her; trailing on the grass. She sighed. "I wish I could've met you, mother."

As the sun began to rise, she heard a rustling noise in the bushes to the left of where she sat. Instinctively, she turned to the noise and got too her feet. She pulled her grey breaches higher up in case she needed to run, and drew up her hood in case someone mistook her for a courtesan and raped her. She turned away from the rustling and made her way back home, taking the long route so that she could lose any potential followers.

A group of male drunkards stood between her and the front entrance to the brothel, so Chesca turned back the way she came. Maybe the back door would be better to use? As she turned the corner into the alley someone grabbed her roughly from behind, and began pulling her towards his body. She span around to face her attacker, and slammed her fist on top of the guard's head. In reflex, he released his hold on her, and she ran. Franchesca tore down the alley and dodged a Scholar in her bid to escape.

"Infidel!" The guard yelled, unsheathing his sword.

Franchesca reached the end of the alleyway and paused to look behind her, the man who'd tried to seize her was beginning to run again – she quickly resumed her journey towards her home.

Chesca reached the back wall, and she turned around to look behind her again before scaling the bricked divider surrounding the garden of the brothel. It was a quick climb - done many times before. She swiftly turned around on top of the wall and jumped down on the other side before scurrying indoors - making sure Madam Gwen never knew she'd been out.

She quickly changed out of her trousers and blouse and pulled on her nightdress. Upon hearing Gwen coming up the stairs, she hung her navy hooded cloak on the back of the door and quickly tidied her things away. As The Madam reached the landing, Chesca picked up a book and sat on a chair in the corner of the room, turning to a random page in the novel.

"Franchesca? Is everything alright?" Her guardian asked.

The raven haired girl nodded. "Trying to read, why?"

"A gentleman downstairs said he thought he saw a hooded figure climb over the wall...I wanted to make sure you were alright."

Chesca nodded. "I'm fine - he's probably been drinking too much..." She sighed. Madam Gwen raised her eyebrows in worry.

"What's the matter, my dear?" The old courtesan seated herself in the chair next to the young woman.

"Nothing really." Chesca replied, closing the book and placing it on the table beside her, only then realising that the book had been upside-down. "I have nothing to do. I want to- I don't know...go out and explore the world?" She asked hopefully.

"Do you think your mother would've let you?" Gwen asked in a serious tone, rising to her feet.

Franchesca shrugged in an unladylike fashion. "I didn't know my mother, and have yet to know who my father is."

Madam Gwen sighed. "Your mother asked me to look after you, Chesca. I can't do that if you're not here, and I won't break my promise to her. As for your father, all we know, is the name Demetri."

"But Aunt Gwen-" But she cut herself off, the old courtesan had left the room already. Chesca sighed before climbing into bed, she fell asleep instantly, she was exhausted after all the climbing and running; her adrenaline diminishing from her body.

The next morning, Altair woke up in a tree. There had been a pretty courtesan sitting in a field watching the stars just the night before, she had good hearing as well as - when he heard something in the bushes to the left, she stood up and turned to the noise as well - pulling her hood over her head before she turned and left. '_Smart girl._' Altair thought.

One Templar and one Saracen guard had appeared from the bushes just as she disappeared, and he knew one of them to be the man he was to assassinate. He pulled a throwing knife out from the pouch on his shoulder in one swift movement, but stopped when he heard them begin to speak.

"Where did she go?" The guard asked.

"Probably home." The Templar target replied.

"To the whore house? Don't courtesans have to work to get their pay to live there? What's she doing all the way out here? Looking for trouble, I guess." The guard chuckled at his own statement.

The target sighed. "I don't know what she's doing out here, but she isn't a courtesan."

"How do you know that? What're we going to do with her?"

Altair leant further forward on the branch, '_She wasn't a courtesan?_' Silently, he jumped down from the tree and - keeping himself hidden - made his way closer to the guard and his target with silent footsteps.

"All I know is that she's lived with Madam Gwen since birth...the Duke want's her."

"Why?" The guard asked.

"As a hostage. The Madam owes him a lot of money, the girl is simply to be used for influence. Now, follow her."

"Alright, what're we going to do if I can't get her?"

"Then I will send another man." The target said it simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And we'll force entry into the brothel to get her, and kill anyone who stands in our way." The guard nodded before running off after the girl. "I'll wait for you both here!" He called.

"No, you won't." A silver dagger pierced through the man's neck and he fell dead to the ground. Altair wiped his blade and sheathed it. The other man was going to attempt to kidnap the girl, therefore Altair had no other choice but to assassinate him as well.

Hopping across the rooftops, Altair ran ahead of the guard to see if he could find the raven haired girl first. Madam Gwen was a good ally of the Creed, so he'd better make sure the brothel had no troubles. Altair waited patiently as the Saracen jogged past him; unaware of the Assassin's presence as he pretended to be a Scholar.

The guard hid in a gap in the wall as the girl began jogging back into the alley. The drunkards outside the front of the whore house obviously frightened her.

The guard seized her from behind and - just as Altair drew a throwing knife; the girl had already saved herself by thumping her captor on the head, then bringing her elbow downwards to strike him in the gut. She left the man quickly as she ran down the alley and Altair continued onwards as the girl past by him. '_She's heading for the back door._' Altair thought as the guard yelled after her. He caught him as he was running passed and slammed his back against the wall.

"Assassin!" The man chocked out.

Drawing his hidden blade, Altair ended the Saracen's life. Then he took off in the direction which the girl had disappeared. '_If my suspicions are accurate.'_ He thought. '_Then unfortunately I'll be seeing her more often.' _

Like always, he used open spaces to hide and, when he found the girl she was looking around, almost as though she'd heard something - or someone. '_There's someone else..._' He watched in slight astonishment as she scaled the wall surrounding the garden of the brothel. '_She goes out a lot...'_ He thought with a sigh.

As the female disappeared over the other side of the wall, two more Saracens' appeared. Altair drew two throwing knives and launched them at the guards standing under the wall, and once they were dead, he walked towards the bodies to retrieve his knives. He took one last look up at the brothel before heading into the woods; far enough away so no one would suspect anything, but close enough to keep an eye out.

Oh yes, Altair remembered that night vividly. It was still fresh in his memory.

His mind wandered back to the girl. She hadn't been looking for trouble at all - she was just looking at the stars...it seemed as though she had no freedom, and as she had made her way sneakily back into the brothel, his accusation was proven correct.

Altair was expected back in Masyaf within the next two days. How was he going to keep watch on the girl while he was there? He sighed, _'Maybe a visit to Guinevere?_' He thought. If Altair told her he had some business to attend too, then perhaps she could allow him to borrow one of her messenger pigeons to send Al Mualim a report.

He jumped off the branch and made his way into the whore house, to be greeted by a corn-blonde courtesan.

"Can I help you, Sir?" She asked seductively.

"I'm here to see Madam Gwen."

The girl pouted, she couldn't have been any older than seventeen. "Right this way, Sir." She turned around, leading him up the stairs. As they ascended, Gwen's voice became audible. "Franchesca, you can't possibly go looking for him. It's outrageous!"

"But, Aunt Gwen...I want to know who he is." The other voice was soft, but demanding.

"I can understand that, my dear...but there are many men with that name, you don't know what could happen! You are not leaving. That's final!" The door to the bedroom closed as Gwen left, and the old whore sighed in frustration as she met Altair and the blonde girl on the stairs. "That girl is impossible." She said to the courtesan.

"You know what it's like to long for your parents, Ma'am." The girl replied sadly before gesturing towards Altair. "This gentleman says he's here to see you." Then the blonde left, leaving Altair and Guinevere alone.

"Come." She gestured for him to follow her up the stairs. Down the next corridor, there was a wooden door to the left, Gwen pushed it open as she and Altair entered. It was a meeting room of some sort, various chairs and sofas furnished the room, and the walls were bare except for one sporting a large bookcase, and another with a large open window.

Altair took a seat, as did Madam Gwen. "How can I help, Altair?" She asked.

"Business has arisen." He crossed his arms behind his head, and propped his feet up on the coffee table.

"And you want to borrow a messenger." She stated.

"If you would be so kind." Altair replied.

"Alright, but I hope this 'business' isn't whoring? Because if it is, then I'm afraid you'll have to find another brothel."

"It's not."

"Good." Gwen replied. "Why not use the bureau?"

"I fear my business is not to be left unguarded any longer than necessary." Altair got up. He nodded a silent goodbye to Guinevere before leaving the room. He reached the top of the stairs when a raven haired girl ran into him.

"I'm sorry." She said quickly. "I wasn't looking where I was going." Altair simply nodded towards her before swiftly descending the stairs.

That evening, from his perch on the branch, Altair spotted the raven haired girl climbing over the wall. The wall was quite slippery from the rain Damascus had had that afternoon, so the girl almost slipped and fell to the ground.

Franchesca grabbed her cloak from the top of the wall, and pulled it on. As she walked towards the town, unaware of the Assassin's presence, she drew up her hood.

Altair kept a short and reasonable distance from the girl, and as they turned into an alleyway, she began to climb.

Once he pulled himself onto the roof, Altair ducked into a roof garden.

As soon as the girl pulled herself up, she sat down cross-legged, leant back on her hands and looked up at the stars.

Altair had looked at the stars most nights himself, but he never really appreciated them. He looked back at the girl when she began to stand, and walk across the roof.

He was put on alert once he heard someone climbing. When a Saracen appeared, Altair unsheathed a throwing knife.

"You're not supposed to be up here." The guard stated, notching an arrow into his bow. "Leave now."

The girl slowly turned to face the archer, and then looked left towards where another had appeared.

"What is your name?" The second demanded.

"Franchesca." She replied.

"She's the one." The first archer stated. "Don't move." He demanded as he began walking towards her, putting the arrow back into the quiver on his back. "You're under arrest." The girl stood where she was, but when the archer was close enough to touch her, he _touched_ her.

"What are you doing?" She exclaimed, pushing him away.

Altair prepared himself to make his appearance, as the archer seized her by the arm. But as soon as his fellow guard joined him in touching the female's waist and hair, the girl grabbed the hilt of the sword attached to the first Saracens' belt.

The weapon less guard backed away, whereas the other cried out: "Infidel!" And drew his own weapon.

Franchesca didn't know how to wield a sword, but she had seen many fights in the streets, and knew little upon spectating. The blade was a lot heavier than she had previously thought, and barely managed to block the attack the guard had thrust upon her. As their blade parted, the guard went for a jab, to which Franchesca jumped backwards to dodge.

Altair held his breath when the raven haired girl found herself teetering on the very edge of the building. He quickly left the roof garden, drawing his hidden blade in seconds and running it through the archer's neck before he could notch an arrow.

Chesca's eyes widened a fraction upon spotting the long drop below her, and upon turning her head back to face the armed guard, she brought the blade up to block another of his attacks. She dropped the sword under his strength, and rolled underneath him to get away from the edge of the roof.

The Saracen raised his sword into the air and brought it down on her, and Franchesca suddenly saw a blur of white and a flash of silver. She closed her eyes when crimson blood splashed against the cream concrete and winced when a strong hand grasped her upper arm, and dragged her onto her feet.

Once she had opened her eyes, a tall, broad shoulder assassin stood before her. Slowly, she stepped away from him.

"Don't alert the guards." He stated, sheathing the blade on his bracer. "Otherwise you'll be next." Chesca nodded obediently, her innocent eyes were wide. "Go home before you get into any more trouble."

She nodded obediently, and watched as he turned sharply on his heel and began to climb down the side of the building.

Altair waited for her in the alley, and it wasn't long until her feet touched the ground. The raven haired girl drew up her hood again and began to walk briskly down the alley back towards her home.

"She's right." He heard her mumble, referring to Madam Gwen. "I shouldn't go out."

Franchesca groaned as the front door was once again blocked by drunkards and she turned back down the alleyway, jogging around the corner of the building and over towards the back wall. She remembered the sight of the dark red blood staining the pale building, and her head began to spin.

Quickly, she reached up with one hand to grasp at the ledge of the wall. The sudden movement caused her to become incredibly dizzy, and she could not get the image of the blood out of her head!

She dropped back to the ground again, and leant against the wall, allowing the cool stone to soothe her head of her cold sweat. Black dots clouded her vision and, shamefully, Franchesca passed out.

**A/N: This is my second Assassin's Creed fanfiction :) Not your typical 3rd chapter romance because, let's face it, Altair isn't really a man who so easily falls in love.**

**Please let me know what you think by dropping a short review and the second chapter will be up by next week xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Franchesca woke up that next morning as Madam Gwen scurried about her bedroom, tidying things away and placing a fresh jug of water upon the dresser. She looked around her room with slight confusion, and then she began to feel dread and panic when she remembered what had happened the night before.

"You were lucky." The old courtesan stated, noticing the raven haired girl had awakened.

"What do you mean?" Franchesca asked, sitting up in bed.

"Someone I know found you, and brought you home safely."

"Were they dangerous?" She sat up, hopefully she wasn't raped...she passed out at the back of the courtesan house! But if they knew Madam Gwen, they must know her, and they would know she wasn't a courtesan.

"I'd say he was _very_ dangerous." Guinevere scolded, "I thought I told you to stay inside!"

"I'm sorry, Aunt Gwen."

The old courtesan sighed, "Don't do it again! If you have to be completely rebellious, at least leave your bedroom door open, so I know that you've gone!"

Altair was bored out of his mind. In one night, he'd gone from Master Assassin to fucking Prince Charming. Saving damsels in distress was _not_ something his skills should be used for, especially the same girl twice within such a short space of time. Three times within two days. He pulled out a throwing knife and spun it in his hand. He wanted a _real_ fight.

As darkness arrived once again, he looked towards the whore house for two reasons. One, the girl was making yet another escape and, two, an ear piercing scream echoed throughout the quiet town.

As the passing villagers began speaking amongst themselves about the scream. Franchesca toppled off the wall and landed on her feet inside the courtesan garden as Altair jumped down from the tree and darted across the road.

"Aunt Gwen? What's going on?" The raven haired girl asked as she entered the back rooms where the scream had been emitted from.

"Franchesca - go to your room. Now. All of you - go!" As half naked courtesans and clients left the back rooms to head to their bedrooms and the tavern at the front of the brothel, Altair waited by the door until the line of men and women went past before he entered and he found Madam Gwen easily enough. She was sat on a bed beside a dead courtesan, it was the corn-blonde seventeen year old he'd briefly spoken to the other day when he came to visit Gwen. Her throat had been slit; the dagger dropped on the floor and the attacker had already fled the scene.

Altair eyed the dishevelled bed covers, a darker hair lay on the pillow to the one the dead whore possessed and a dark red strip of material was clutched in her hand. "I heard a scream." Altair made his presence known, and the old courtesan got too her feet, turning to face the assassin.

"Altair." She greeted.

"An amateur's work, I can tell." He picked up the dagger and leant against the doorframe, examining the attacker's knife in his right hand. "Expensive looking blade. Templar work."

"I can understand why." Madam Gwen said as she ran her hands over the young girl's eyelids - closing them, she pulled the sheet respectfully over the body. "She wasn't a very nice girl, she had a lot of trouble before she came here."

Altair didn't mention that the body could have been a warning. After all, he had overheard the Templar speaking about the brothel owing money. "Do you want me to find out who did it?"

"If you would be so kind... how do I re-pay you?" Madam Gwen asked.

"We'll call it even."

"You brought Franchesca home last night." She stated. "I am in your debt, eternally."

He thought about it for a moment. "If you're serious, Guinevere, you could pay for this person to be my target."

"Then it's done." She tossed him a bag of coins she pulled out from her cleavage.

He nodded and turned around. "I suggest you lock the back door at night...it's how the girl escapes." Maybe that would keep the raven haired beauty out of trouble while he had work to do.

"Thank you, Altair." The old courtesan stated as he left.

Franchesca snuck into her Aunt's room when she was downstairs dealing with clients. Whilst she was searching through various draws, she stood on a creaking floor board and shifted her weight from one foot to another. After realising that it was loose, she knelt down and removed the rug before lifting up the wooden plank. The hole was dark, so she retrieved the oil lamp sat on top of the dresser, and brought it over to the secret compartment.

And there she found it. The key to the attic.

It used to be her mother's room - she'd never been in there before...only the day she was born.

Putting everything back where she had found it, Franchesca evacuated Madam Gwen's room, making sure to shut the door behind her. She climbed the stairs, keeping as silent as she could and wincing when the boards made an occasional squeak.

As the raven haired girl reached the attic room, she unlocked the door and shut it behind her. Setting the oil lamp down on the bedside table, she began her search. Her search for any clues of which could tell her anything about her father and where he could be. It was very late when she came across a brown leather book, under a floorboard, under the bed. _'It's a diary_.' Her eyes widened. She put the book on top the moth-eaten quilts and set the board back into place.

Franchesca put the key back and ran into her own room as Guinevere began coming up the stairs.

"What're you doing, Franchesca?" The old courtesan asked, suspiciously.

She held the dairy behind her back as she spoke. "Nothing." Her eyes dropped to the floor, shamefacedly.

"Is something the matter?"

"No, of course not, Aunt Gwen."

Madam Gwen shook her head, "Alright, but you know you need to be careful wandering around during the evening. Drunk men would jump at the chance to have you, and we don't want that Chesca. We don't want that." As the old courtesan entered her own bedroom and shut the door behind her, Franchesca descended the stairs towards the back rooms of the brothel and reached for the handle.

It was locked, and the key was behind the bar in the tavern.

The only other way out now would be through her bedroom window and down the vines into the back garden.

Again, she climbed the stairs and closed the door behind her as she entered her room. Franchesca hovered at the window, and looked out to see that there was a long drop down if she fell.

Franchesca tugged on her breaches and climbed onto the windowsill, slowly opening the shutters as she did so. She looked out, and down before beginning to climb out. Unfortunately, her foot didn't quite reach the wall, but she saw a pile of hay to the right of the window, and knew that if she jumped at the right angle, the soft straw would break her fall and silence it as well. She swung her legs from left to right to gain momentum until she released her grip.

Rolling out of the haystack and pulling pieces of straw out of her hair, Franchesca took one last look towards the brothel and then ran off towards the docks.

Altair sighed as he peered over the edge of the roof of the boathouse; his target in sight. The Templar had left various clues behind which Altair had pieced together. A brown hair was on the pillow of the bed, and the courtesan had ripped a piece of his shirt; a red piece of fabric had been clutched in her hand.

This man couldn't have been any older than himself, twenty-eight at the most. His hair matched the one on the pillow, and his red shirt was ripped at the bottom. Altair had to admit he'd moved away from the courtesan house pretty quickly, but then again, it did take the assassin some time to pin-point him.

"Excuse me." The Templar grabbed someone's cloak and spun them around to face him. Upon spotting the persons face, he forgot what he was about to say and smirked lustfully instead. "How are you this evening?"

"I'm very well thank you, but I must be going." Altair closed his eyes and took in a deep, frustrated breath at his stupidity.

Of course, he should've known that girl would've found another way outside. He had definitely underestimated her.

Annoyingly, she kept appearing and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. If he killed her, there would be one less problem...but he would be breaking one of the three tenants of the Creed: stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent.

The Assassin jumped off the building and landed with a thud in front of the two.

Shocked and surprised, both Franchesca and the amateur Templar simply looked over towards him.

The man assumed Altair was after him, and made a run for it - pushing Franchesca into Altair's way. The Assassin steadied the girl, "Go home!" He commanded, before taking off after his target.

An elderly man appeared from an alleyway, and had witnessed the incident, "Are you alright, my dear?"

"Oh Max! It's so good to see you!" Franchesca threw her arms around the old man's neck and kissed his cheek.

"Were you looking for me, my dear?"

"Yes, I was hoping you'd help me?"

"Why, you only come and see me when it's something to read?" Franchesca nodded and produced her mother diary from underneath her cloak. "What's this?" He asked, his voice was rough, yet gentle all the same.

"It's my mothers' diary." She replied, "I was hoping – _wondering - _that it may have something inside, which may help me find my father?"

"Oh, Chesca...I don't think you should go through your mother's things."

"Max," She sighed. "Please help me."

The old man sighed. "Alright, my dear. I'll help. Come on, Magdalena should be at home." He placed his hand on her back and led her through the village and towards his house just opposite the well. Max took his key out from his pocket and unlocked the door, holding it open and ushering the raven haired girl inside.

"Good evening, Franchesca." Magdalena smiled at the girl as Franchesca removed her cloak.

"It's nice to see you looking well, Magdalena." Franchesca replied, hanging her cloak on the back of the door.

The house was small and quaint, with wooden flooring and walls. The kitchen held a burning wood stocked fire, wooden counters, a basket of fruit and vegetables and a small, square wooden table with four matching chairs surrounding it. Magdalena was a fine artist, and a painting of her and her husband's son hung proudly upon the wall, his green eyes seemed to stare at Franchesca from wherever she stood in the room.

"Come through here." Max said, holding open the door to his study.

Franchesca entered the room where a wooden bookshelf stood against the wall, a few thick volumes sat upon the shelf along with a small dark wooden box. A double bed situated itself along the far end of the wall with neat covers. There was wood burning in the far corner of the room to the right of a small dresser, a cracked mirror sat on top.

Max sat down on a wooden chair at a small wooden desk, underneath a curtained window. He lit a wax candle before placing the diary on the desk in front of him and opened it to the first page. Franchesca stood beside Max at the desk and frowned at the inked script decorating the pages in the book. "What does it say?" She asked.

"Nothing of your father so far." Max stated, flicking through the pages. "Ah," He stated. "Here: _'Today I found out I am with child. Truly I am very happy, however Madam Gwen believes the child should be'_...Oh dear." He stated, glancing up at the raven haired girl standing beside him. "Let's skip that part," He turned back a few pages in the book before reading a few lines and gasping. "Franchesca, do you know _anything_ of your father?"

"Only that his name is Demetri." The girl replied.

Magdalena began to speak to someone from the other room, and Franchesca couldn't hear much but assumed that the elderly woman was greeting either an old friend or a relative, that she hadn't seen for a long time. Max was silent for a moment longer, and as he turned through more pages in the book, he came across an envelope. "This has your name on it, my dear."

Franchesca frowned, "Open it for me." She stated, suddenly nervous.

Max cleared his throat before tearing the envelope open at the top, and unfolding the piece of paper inside. "_'For my dearest child. No doubt you've found my diary in hopes of uncovering the identity of your father.'_" He began, "_'His name is Demetri Chapman, and I am afraid to tell you that he was a traveller, a man who was visiting Damascus from the city, Masyaf. Inside my diary you will also find an envelope with a letter addressed to him. I would like for you to find your father and deliver the letter yourself.'_" Max read in silence for a few minutes and Franchesca couldn't help but wonder what else the letter was saying.

"What is it, Max?" The raven haired girl asked impatiently.

"My dear," He turned around in his seat to face her. "Magdalena and I are your grandparents."

As tears began to fill the raven haired girl's eyes, the old man turned around in his seat and filtered through the rest of the diary for the letter addressed to his son. Upon finding it, he handed it to the girl before closing the diary and slowly getting to his feet. "Come into the kitchen, there is someone for you to meet."

Franchesca frowned and followed Max out of the room after she had collected the diary from the table. How did he know who was in the kitchen with Magdalena? Upon entering the room, Franchesca's emerald eyes met the ones of a young man. He wore the white robes of an Assassin, and his hood was pulled down to reveal blonde hair.

"Cameron." Max stated as he stepped into the room. "It's good to see you again, my dear boy!"

"Grandfather!" The boy stood up and greeted the old man with a tight, forearm grasp. He then caught sight of the raven haired girl standing behind the old man. "Who's this?" He asked.

The boy had emerald green eyes, the same to the one of the man in the painting. "Cameron this is Franchesca...she is your sister." Max stated.

"Her father is our Demetri?" Magdalena asked, her eyes wide. "I thought I recognised those eyes when we first met her!"

"My father told me that he had another child." The boy stated, his eyes still on the raven haired girl. "He's been waiting for you to find him. He received a letter from Rachel many, many years ago to tell him that she was with child." The room was silent for a few moments before the Assassin made a bid to leave the house, "I should be moving off. I am to be meeting someone soon, Altair doesn't appreciate idleness." He kissed Magdalena on the cheek and did his farewell forearm grasp with his grandfather before turning to Franchesca. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Franchesca. Perhaps, if you want to see father then you may travel with me to Jerusalem when I return home?"

Franchesca nodded eagerly, "I would like that very much."

"Stay safe, Cameron." Max nodded his head to his grandson as the young blonde turned to the front door. The assassin nodded before pulling his hood over his head and leaving the quaint cottage.

"I best be leaving now as well." Franchesca stated, staring at the door where the boy she had just been told was her brother once stood.

"Please, my dear." Magdalena stepped towards the raven haired girl and placed her arms lovingly around Franchesca's shoulders, "Visit us tomorrow. We will discuss everything then, but now it is getting late. We do not wish to keep you any longer."

Franchesca nodded and returned the hug before turning to face her newly found grandfather, "Thank you." She stated, throwing her arms around the old man. "I'll be sure to come tomorrow."

"Please do!" Max replied, leading the raven haired girl towards the door. "And Chesca," He began. "Be careful."

Franchesca pulled on her navy cloak and nodded her head in understanding before stepping outside into the dark street. Instead of heading straight home like she should have done, she made her way along to the docks and the boathouse where she had a clear view of the stars.

As soon as she reached the docks, however, she received some unexpected company from six of the city guards. "What's a pretty thing like you doing out here so late?" One of them asked as he made his way towards her.

"I was just on my way home." She replied. Her voice was a little shaky, and Franchesca didn't know whether it was from the emotion she had felt earlier, the slight chill in the air, or fear of the guards.

"I'm sure you can make a small detour," One of the guards stated, gripping her upper arm tightly. He forcefully dragged her towards his fellow guards, "Ain't that right boys!" They jeered in response, and Franchesca was thrown towards two of the other guards who immediately began running their hands over her body. Franchesca felt violated, and she cried out before punching one of them in the face, which probably did more damage to her hand than it did to the Saracen himself. "Feisty little wench!" He growled, backhanding her across her face.

Franchesca cried out in agony as she received a stinging slap across her cheek. The other guard continued running his hands over her body, and Franchesca kneed him in the groin and kicked the other one to get him away from her.

Suddenly, a hand grasped her throat and began to squeeze the air out of her. She was shoved against the bricked wall of the boathouse, and Franchesca tried to pry his hand off of her neck. "Let go of me!" She cried out, her legs lashing out to kick him.

There were six of them, and Franchesca knew her attempts of escaping were futile, but she still tried. She dug her nails into the Saracens jugular until she felt blood draw underneath her fingertips. "Bitch!" The raven haired girl cried out again as she received another stinging backhand, and she whimpered when she felt his gloved hand grope at the inside of her thigh, two of the other guards grasped hold of her ankles to part her legs to allow their fellow guard access to her.

Never had she felt so violated in her life.

**A/N: I have decided to update on a Monday from now on, because I am off of uni on those days :) For now though, I hope you're all enjoying the story so far, please drop me a review to let me know what you think xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

A white flash caught Franchesca's eye as an Assassin dropped from the top of the building above her. He landed on one of the guards, covering their mouth with his gloved hand to muffle the cries of agony as he took his life. The Assassin pulled a now bloodied hidden blade out of the man's throat before attempting the same attack on another guard. Quickly, the Saracen caught the Assassins hand and threw him off of him, drawing his sword to defend himself he alerted the others that they were under attack.

"Assassin!"

Franchesca cried out again when the guard detaining her grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her onto the floor. Then his grip was gone, and his dead form was replaced with a live one of an Assassin cleaning his sword. As soon as he had sheathed his weapon, Franchesca found herself hauled onto her feet by the man who had saved her.

"I told you to go home." He growled, "It's not safe at night."

She tried and failed to pull herself out of his grip as he pulled her along the street with him, "I didn't need your help!"

"It didn't look that way either." Franchesca was dragged to the end of the road. She tried once again to pull herself out of the Assassin's grip, only for him to hold onto her harder.

As the brothel came into view, the Assassin released her once they were standing below the brick wall. "You're welcome." He stated, stepping back and crossing his arms.

"I said I didn't need any help!" She snapped, stepping onto a crate and starting to climb the wall. Once she hoisted herself onto the top of the wall, she looked over her shoulder to see him still standing there. "What?" She asked, instead of replying she felt him glaring at her back.

Franchesca walked along the wall until she was standing under her bedroom window, and she placed her footing in the vines of the flowers, wincing slightly as the thorns dug into her fingertips. Franchesca climbed higher until she was directly under her window, then she reached up with one hand to pull it open. But it didn't move.

"Crap." She mumbled, tugging harder on the pane. She put both hands on the window and placed both feet flat on the wall; pushing with her feet and pulling with her hands. The window suddenly shot open and Franchesca's feet lost their grip on the wall.

As she hung from the window, her feet dangling in the air, she knew the assassin below was trying to hold in his amusement. "Need any help?"

She wanted to wipe that smirk from his face. "No." She growled. She shuffled along the window until she reached the other side, and finally hoisted herself into her bedroom.

"Franchesca. How nice of you to finally return home." Madam Gwen walked over towards the window, "Altair, how lovely to see you. Why don't you come inside? This girl is such hard work!" The courtesan pulled the raven haired girl into the bedroom, "We will talk tomorrow, Franchesca. For now, go to bed."

Reluctantly, the raven haired girl did as she was told. Shutting her window and closing the curtains before watching as her guardian left her bedroom; shutting the door behind her.

Franchesca sighed as she pulled down her hood and removed her cloak. She then quickly changed into her nightdress before slipping under the covers of her bed - blowing out the candle upon her bedside table before she fully lay down to rest.

She heard Madam Gwen leading the Assassin - to which she now knew his name to be Altair - up the stairs. "Lillianna has prepared herself for you, Altair."

"Thank you, Gwen." He stated.

Franchesca heard a door at the end of the corridor open and a voice from one of the whores began speaking. Franchesca rolled her eyes before pulling the covers over her head. Lillianna had always been one of the loudest whores in the brothel, and it sickened Franchesca when she heard the girls' cries and moans of pleasure in the night.

The raven haired girl quickly fell into slumber before any noises from the room the two were containing could reach her and Franchesca peacefully slept right through the night.

She awoke the next morning with Madam Gwen gently shaking her. The old courtesan was sat on the side of Franchesca's bed, with a small, wrapped parcel in her hands.

The raven haired girl rubbed her sleepy eyes before sitting up in her bed, "Good morning, Aunt Gwen." She greeted, yawning.

"Good Morning, Chesca." The old whore smiled, "Happy Birthday."

The parcel was held towards the raven haired girl, and Franchesca frowned at its unusual shape. It was flat, long and rectangular and the girl quickly thanked her guardian before tearing into the brown paper. Once it was opened, she held up the item in confusion. Why had Madam Gwen given her a corset?

"I appreciate the thought, Aunt Gwen." She started, "But you know I do not wear these." She got out of bed and crossed her room towards her breaches and blouse. She picked them up before slipping behind the dressing screen to change into her clothes.

"Come and sit down beside me." Madam Gwen began, patting the bed beside her.

Franchesca quickly washed her face with fresh water before dabbing herself dry with a cloth, and walked towards the bed with a hairbrush in her hand. It wasn't until she did perch on the edge of the bed that Madam Gwen continued. "You're now twenty years of age, Franchesca. The same age your dear mother was before she died." The old whore looked at the raven haired girl beside her. "Your mother was a good worker." She stated, her eyes suddenly taking a new light which Franchesca did not like. "And since her death, I have lost money, which I owe and cannot pay. I have been awaiting this particular birthday to tell you that you will now be receiving clients."

"What!" Franchesca exclaimed, scrambling to her feet, dropping the brush onto the floor with a thud.

"Don't worry, my dear. Your first time will hurt, but it's all a matter of getting used to it." Madam Gwen stated calmly. "Once you've lost your virginity, there will be no pain, but the reward of bringing pleasure to the men who are well deserved for the company of a woman. You shall be given food and shelter as your payment."

"I shan't!" Franchesca exclaimed.

Madam Gwen looked at the raven haired girl with dark eyes. "What?"

"I won't do it!" Franchesca turned on her heel and fled from the room.

Madam Gwen surged to her feet, "Come back here this instant!" She cried, reaching the door moments after the raven haired girl escaped through it and descended the stairs of the brothel. Franchesca ran out of the back door and quickly scaled the wall with skilled practice. She hopped onto her feet the other side before sprinting through the town, earning disapproving looks from other villagers.

"Where do you think she's going in such a hurry?"

"Is she in trouble?"

"She'd going to get hurt if she continues on like that! And I won't help her, if she does!"

Franchesca ignored them as she dodged women carrying vase's on top of their heads, vigilantes waving their arms around madly, beggars, shop owners, merchants, children and other peasants busying themselves with their daily routines.

When she had ran a safe distance from the brothel, Franchesca slowed to a walk and stopped on a bench to catch her breath. She lifted her head and looked at the people milling about their business, and just when she stood up to continue towards her grandparents' house she had an odd shiver run up her spine.

Someone was watching her.

Franchesca quickly looked around the town and the rooftops, and upon seeing no white robed Assassin, she continued on her way, her mind racing with the thoughts of the ultimatum Madam Gwen had declared to her.

Altair was just about to leave Lillianna's bedroom when he heard Madam Gwen speaking furiously in the corridor. The Assassin frowned as he stepped into the corridor, glancing disinterestedly at the three whores swooning over him; one of which he had almost broken the night previous.

"I want her found!" Gwen was exclaiming. "I want her returned and locked in her room!"

He pulled up his white hood and upon noticing a certain bedroom door left wide open, he figured Franchesca had made another escape. "Is there a problem, Gwen?" He asked.

The old courtesan shooed the three girls away before turning to face Altair, "Franchesca left this morning. I'm sending a few of my girls to go and return her to me, I would've paid you to do it seeing as you ensured her return last night, but you said you had somewhere to be today."

"I do, Gwen." Altair replied, looking at the whores eyes suspiciously. "But if I find her on my way through the city, I'll be sure to bring her back."

"Of course, and you will receive payment if you do." Madam Gwen replied, "A free night, perhaps Franchesca's first client?"

Altair frowned at the old whore, "When did she start?"

Madam Gwen shook her head, "Franchesca's mother died when she was twenty, and as it is the girl's twentieth year today, I thought she could continue."

"You're using the daughter to replace the mother." Altair stated.

"When Rachel found out she was with child, I did suggest that she didn't continue with the pregnancy. But something about the girls' father made Rachel want to keep the child. Rachel was a good worker, I wouldn't have lost so many clients if she hadn't have died." The old courtesan began walking down the stairs with the Assassin, "A few of Rachel's old clients have seen Franchesca in the past and asked if they could have her, so at least I know she will be well sort after by a few rich men." She frowned and paused walking, "For some reason you men can always spot a virgin in a brothel."

"Like a fish out of water." Altair replied.

* * *

><p>Franchesca finally reached her grandparents cottage, and quickly knocked on the door.<p>

She burst into tears as soon as she was through the door, and ran straight for the arms of Magdalena. The elderly woman immediately looked to her husband still standing by the open door, confusion evident on his wrinkled face. He closed the door and took a seat at the dining table as Magdalena led the crying raven haired girl towards it.

"Why do you cry, my dear?" Magdalena asked, "Your Birthday is a time for celebration!"

"It's Madam Gwen!" Franchesca wiped her eyes with the tissue Max handed too her. "She wants me to replace my mother at the brothel!" She erupted into a new wave of tears, "And she's already talking about clients and stuff like that and...I don't want to go back there anymore! What if she locks me in my room? Barring the window?"

Magdalena rubbed the girls back soothingly, and looked to her husband for what to say.

"Perhaps it's best for you to stay here until your brother is prepared to go back to Jerusalem." Max stated, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"But there is no room for me," Franchesca sniffled, "And I couldn't be a burden to you-"

"-Nonsense!" Magdalena cut the raven haired girl off. "You will have no boundaries here with us, you may come and go as you please."

"On the condition that you stay safe, and carry a dagger with you at all times." Max added. "Which reminds me…" He frowned and looked around the room before stepping into his and Magdalena's bedroom.

Franchesca nodded in response before fumbling with the tissue in her lap, "How long do you think Cameron will be? Will he stay here for the night?"

Max returned shortly after, with a small wooden box (the one which had been on the bookshelf). "There is a Bureau for him somewhere in the city where he will stay." He explained. "I do not know how long he is to stay here in Damascus, but it will be until his target is assassinated." Franchesca nodded in understanding. "Here, my dear." Max stated, placing the box on the table in front of her. "This is for you, Happy Birthday."

"You didn't have to get me anything." Franchesca stated, smiling up at the old couple. "But it was very kind of you to do so." She ran her fingers gently across the smooth wood before gently fingering the copper latch. Slowly, she opened the lid of the box and her eyes shone happily and appreciatively, "Thank you, I love it."

Inside the box, was a small knife, with lovely detailing on the ivory hilt. It must have been rather expensive! The blade was so clean and shiny that it mirrored her reflection perfectly.

"I'm glad you like it, my dear." Max replied, his eyes holding a mischievous twinkle in them.

"I have never owned anything like this before." Franchesca stated, examining the blade in her hands.

Max chuckled, "Well, it is still sharp, so be careful with it."

Magdalena took it from the raven haired girls' hands, polished it, before returning it back into the case.

"I will need to return to the brothel at some point to retrieve some of my things." Franchesca stated, gently closing the lid of the small box once the dagger had been placed carefully back inside. "I do not have to be seen. I usually sneak in and out unspotted anyway."

Max nodded his head, "I'm sure Cameron would accompany you in case you get into any trouble, my dear."

"Accompany her where?" A voice asked from the doorway. The three at the table turned to the voice to see a white robed Assassin standing there, he closed the door behind him and walked towards the table, placing his hand on his grandmothers' shoulder as he stood behind her chair.

"To her home to retrieve her things." Max replied.

"Of course I'll go with her." Cameron replied, "Tomorrow we can go to Jerusalem."

"Business over so quickly?" Max asked.

Cameron nodded, "Yes grandfather. I was trained by the best, as he was before him." The blonde shot the man a knowing wink before looking back towards his sister. "Would you like to go now or later?"

"She'll go later." Magdalena answered for the raven haired girl, "It's best to let things calm down for a minute." She stated, nodding towards her husband.

"Has something happened?" Cameron asked, looking at Franchesca curiously.

"My guardian wants me to replace my mother." She stated, her eyes finding the worn wood of the table.

"That's not allowed." Cameron stated sternly, taking the fourth seat around the table. "You're the daughter of an Assassin, you should be treated with more respect! And what she's offering you-"

Max chuckled, "Calm down, dear boy." The old man pat his grandson on the shoulder, "She's been quite happy there for the past twenty years."

"Minus the freedom." Franchesca scowled.

"She had the right intention keeping you safe." Magdalena replied.

"I suppose so." Franchesca replied, looking down at the wooden table in front of her. "But if I knew she was keeping me there to replace my mother, I would've left much sooner."

"It's good that we've found out who your father is when we did!" Max replied, "Any later, and we wouldn't know what could've happened. You may have left the city without knowing where you were going, never found out who your father was and perhaps been killed."

"Lovely, grandfather." Cameron rolled his eyes as he got to his feet. "I must go and find Altair and inform him that I shall be leaving tomorrow."

Franchesca raised her head, "Altair?" She asked.

Cameron frowned, "You know him?"

Franchesca shrugged, "I think he's friends with Madam Gwen...he was at the brothel last night. I doubt he's still there though."

Cameron nodded, "It wouldn't hurt to look there then...you can collect your things now then while I go and look for him." Franchesca nodded and reluctantly got to her feet as well, "We'll be back within an hour, grandmother. If not then-"

"-We'll understand." Max stated. "Keep her safe."

Franchesca pulled on her navy cloak and drew up her hood as they stepped into the streets.

They left the cottage and travelled through the crowded markets in relative silence. Franchesca longed to climb the buildings, but thought against it after seeing archers standing up there on patrol. Cameron saw her watching and spoke so low that only she could hear.

"They're on patrol." He stated, "Extremely annoying, especially when you're in a rush to get somewhere...or to get away from anything."

"Tell me about it," Franchesca rolled her eyes. "I'd be rich if I had a coin for the amount of times I've had to get down from the roof."

Cameron chuckled, and as they reached the wall enclosing the garden of the brothel, he watched with interest as Franchesca jumped up and grasped the top of the wall. As the raven haired girl pulled herself onto the top she smiled down at the assassin, "I won't be long." She stated, "But you know I've been caught if you hear anything."

"It's a brothel, Franchesca. Of course I'm going to hear things."

Franchesca's cheeks burned slightly with embarrassment, "If you hear anything out of the _ordinary_ then!" As she disappeared over the other side of the wall, Cameron's chuckling subsided and she could hear the sickening cooing and flirtatious sighing of the whores coming from the general direction of the back rooms of the brothel.

Franchesca slipped inside the back door, ensuring her hood was pulled over her head as she slowly ascended the stairs and onto the second floor. No one had spotted her so far, and no one had approached her either. Upon hearing high heeled footfalls, Franchesca quickly entered her bed chambers and closed the door behind her with a faint click. She backed away from the door as the footsteps grew closer, and sighed with relief when they continued on down the corridor, dying out at the end.

The raven haired girl quickly pulled out a satchel from under her bed and silently moved towards her dresser in the corner of the room. Franchesca pulled open the first draw and dug through various dresses and delicate pieces of material to retrieve her breaches and shirts at the very bottom. She stuffed them into her bag and as she got up to leave, she heard the bedroom door creak open. Her head snapped up to see a white robed man stepping into the room behind her.

"I told you to wait outside, Cameron." Upon closer inspection to the man, he was not an Assassin.

The man stepped into the room and pulled down his hood. Franchesca gasped and took a step back, his face was scarred many times and his skin was slightly burnt and wrinkled. His nose was quite large and his mouth was set into a grim line. It was his eyes which scared Franchesca the most. They were dark brown, but so dark she involuntarily shivered.

"I think you may have the wrong room." She stuttered slightly, her eyes widened as the man removed the cord from around his waist, and Franchesca took another step backwards.

He shook his head, "Madam Gwen said she saw you returning. Said I could come up 'ere for a good time."

Franchesca put her hands up in defence, "I'm afraid you must be mis-" She cried out in pain as the man cracked the back of his hand across her cheek - knocking her backwards and onto the wooden floorboards. Franchesca raised her right hand to rest against her stinging cheek as she propped herself up on her left elbow. She looked up at the man scornfully, but had no time to move as he came at her quickly; grabbing her hair and jerking her onto her feet before hurling her onto the bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Franchesca screamed as the man climbed onto the bed in front of her.

She backed away as he crawled towards her; a lustful smirk playing on his lips as he was close to mounting her. Franchesca brought up her foot and kicked him in the chest, the shock momentarily distracted the man and gave her enough time to dart off of the bed and grab hold of her bag as she bolted for the door.

As the raven haired girl tore along the corridor towards the stairs, she pushed past a few whores and a few of their many clients for the day. Franchesca flew down the stairs and straight through the lounging room filled with many men of various sizes and ages in her bid to reach the front doors of the brothel.

Madam Gwen stood in her way, and instead of stopping or turning around to run for the back door, Franchesca barrelled into the old courtesan, causing them both to topple onto the floor just outside of the brothel.

The raven haired girl didn't look back as she picked herself up and ran through the village, ignoring the old whore's cries and shouts as she got further and further away.

In case anyone chased after her, Franchesca climbed onto the top of a building and dived into one of the roof gardens; hiding herself from the views of anyone watching or looking for her. She hugged her legs tightly to her chest and rested her cheek on top of her knees, trying not to think of what would've happened if she hadn't managed to escape the brothel. Would she have been raped? And caged in her room until the day she died? She would probably have tried to kill herself.

Hopefully Cameron would find her.

She didn't realise she had been crying until the salty tears began to sting the small cut on her cheek caused from the man's ring. Quickly, she wiped them away and looked up at the curtained walls billowing in the wind around her. Upon hearing slow footsteps, Franchesca peeked through the curtains to see an armed guard on patrol. She ducked back into the roof garden and continued to cuddle herself childishly.

The muffled cry of pain pulled Franchesca out of her thoughts and caused her to sit bolt upright in the roof garden.

The curtain flew open as a white blur dived inside - causing Franchesca to scream in surprise. A hand clamped over her mouth, and Franchesca looked up with frightened eyes up at the white hooded Assassin in front of her. He continued to hold her silent as many more footsteps rushed past, to which Franchesca assumed were guards.

"Cameron?" She whispered, once he removed his hand.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" Another Assassin jumped into the roof garden, and gripped the first one by the front of his robes. "What possessed you to cause such a scene at Guinevere's?"

Cameron ripped the other Assassin's hand from the front of his robes, "That old whore was trying to sell my sister!" He growled, pulling down his hood to reveal his head of blonde hair.

The other Assassin then seemed to sense that they were not alone in the roof garden. He turned his hooded face in the direction of Franchesca, and sighed audibly, "You." He grumbled, pulling his hood further over his face.

"Altair, we have to leave now." Cameron stated. "I'm not letting her stay here."

The Assassin's looked at each other before Altair nodded his head, "Demetri knows of her coming?"

Cameron nodded, "My grandfather sent a message yesterday."

Altair turned his gaze back towards Franchesca, "You need to be careful when you get to the gates." He stated before turning back to Cameron. "Hide in plain sight. I'll make a diversion and clear your path." The Assassin then checked that no guards were around before he jumped out of the roof garden; disappearing from sight.

Franchesca looked up at Cameron, "Ready?" He asked. The raven haired girl nodded and followed the blonde out of the roof garden, down a stack of crates into an alleyway before blending with the crowd. She stuck as close to Cameron as she could, keeping her eyes peeled for any of the whores that Madam Gwen could possibly have sent after her.

"We need to go back to Max and Magdalena's." Franchesca whispered.

"We have no time." Cameron replied, "And if we're seen going there, they'd be in danger. They'll understand."

The main gate to Damascus was now in sight, and as Cameron and Franchesca walked closer towards it, they spotted Altair waiting for them just outside with two horses. They passed the guards without a worry, and as soon as they reached the Assassin a deep voice broke through the atmosphere.

"Stop her!"

"Time to go." Cameron stated, giving her a push towards Altair. As he turned to face four oncoming guards, drawing his sword.

Altair lifted the girl onto a black stallion before mounting behind her, they galloped down the desert road, dodging villagers as they fled from the city. It wasn't long until Cameron caught up with them and they were safe enough to slow their horses down to a trot, Franchesca loosened her grip on the stallion's mane lightly and took a deep breath of freedom.

"Chesca?" Cameron began. "How did you find out that father was your...father?"

The raven haired girl dug around her bag before finding the leather bound book which once belonged to her mother, "This is my mother's diary. I came across it in the attic room."

"That's disturbing." Cameron wrinkled his nose, "You read a whore's diary?"

Franchesca rolled her eyes, "_I_ didn't read it." She replied, "Max did."

"Even worse for grandfather." The blonde replied, wrinkling his nose.

"What was your mother like?" She asked her brother.

The blonde cleared his throat, "She was a whore as well." Was all he said.

"I hate to interrupt," Altair began, "But we may want to blend...we have company."

Five Saracens began to ride towards them through the sand. Cameron and Altair slouched in their seats and slowed their horses from a trot to a walk. Franchesca was about to ask what she should do when Altair pulled her against his chest and told her to close her eyes.

All the guards saw when they passed were two scholars and a scholar's their travelling companion. As soon as they were a safe distance from the guards, Franchesca opened her eyes and the three sat up properly again. The horses quickened their pace, until they were galloping along the dirt road. They past large tower-like buildings, which Franchesca longed to climb - she would've asked Cameron if they could stop if it had not been for Altair being there.

"Assassins!" Someone suddenly cried out.

Franchesca turned to see who it had been when Altair quickly drew his sword and sliced through an armoured guard. Her eyes widened in shock as they continued on down the path, and it wasn't long until they finally reached a small village.

Altair and Cameron slowed their horses to a walk before eventually stopping at a small field. They dismounted, and Cameron helped Franchesca get down before the Assassin's removed the saddles and the rest of the tack from the stallions.

Both Assassins were quite strict with her. Commands of 'stay here' or 'keep hidden' were repeated each and every time she moved. Obviously Altair had told Cameron of her late night outings. '_What a prat_.' She thought.

The raven haired girl waited until she thought both of them were asleep before she got to her feet and crept out of the small building they were staying inside. It was raining slightly, but not enough to soak her. Franchesca inspected the horses first, checking to make sure they were well sheltered and had plenty of water and dry hay before she made her way across the dirt road and towards a tall building.

Franchesca spun around upon hearing the horse she recently leave neigh loudly, as if someone had disturbed him.

She waited a good long moment before beginning to climb the side of the building. She placed one foot on a wooden board and hoisted herself up - grabbing hold of a stone ledge above her head as she continued to climb the length of the wall. When she reached the top, she heard a slight creaking noise. Franchesca paused to listen for a moment, and upon realising that it was the wooden guttering along the edge of the roof, she attempted to hoist herself up quicker. Her sudden movement caused the wood to break from the roof, and the raven haired girl could feel herself begin to topple backwards.

"Crap." She mumbled.

She scrambled for the roof again, but upon having the familiar sinking feeling in her stomach - she panicked and misjudged her grasp, therefore, missing completely. Her breath caught in her throat as she fell towards the ground, and she squeezed her eyes tightly in preparation for the impact of hitting the hard ground.

Franchesca thought she would hit the floor at any moment, but that's when she landed in a strong pair of arms. She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at annoyed Altair. "I thought you were told to stay inside." He stated, dumping her unceremoniously into a pile of wet hay.

She rolled onto her feet and began to walk away from him, "Can you blame someone to long for freedom when they've been locked up all their life?"

He looked at her plainly. Obviously he didn't care.

She went to walk away, but was stopped when his strong hand grasped her forearm. She protested and struggled as he dragged her back towards the building they were occupying. As soon as he reached the building, he pushed her inside and locked the door behind him. He moved his bedroll in front of the door and settled down, rolling his eyes at Cameron who was lightly snoring.

Bored, and not able to go outside or sleep, Franchesca began to look through her brothers' pouch, and upon finding a black stick, she grinned mischievously. The raven haired girl tiptoed towards where the blonde Assassin lay and slowly removed his hood - being careful as not to awaken him.

"How old do you think you are?"

Altair's voice broke through the silence, and almost caused Franchesca to poke Cameron in the eye with the pencil (which she held like a piece of cutlery). She did not look at the assassin, only continued to draw on the blonde's face. "Twenty." She replied. As the curled moustache was finished, she set to work on a matching monobrow, and then a beard.

Franchesca did not know whether or not the scoff from the other Assassin was for the masterpiece she had drawn, or in disbelief over her age due to her childish antics.

But she didn't care.

When Cameron began to stir, Franchesca launched the pencil across the room and turned on her side - evening out her breathing so that Cameron would believe her to be asleep.

"Something just crawled across my face." He said sluggishly from his awakened state, "Was it a spider?"

"I don't know."

Franchesca was surprised Altair didn't tell Cameron about what she had done. Of course, she now had some new-found respect for the arrogant Assassin.

"It's getting lighter outside." Cameron stated, "I'll wake her up and we'll pack, we should leave before the sun fully rises."

The sound of both Assassin's getting to their feet was audible, and Franchesca was gently shaken by Cameron. She needed to pretend that there was nothing on his face. "Chesca." The blonde whispered, gently shaking her, "Wake up."

Slowly, she sat up, and was glad to see that Cameron had pulled up his hood. They packed away their bedrolls before tacking the horses and making their way towards Jerusalem again. "I thought there'd be more than desert outside Damascus." Franchesca stated, slightly uncomfortable with the silence they had been travelling in for the past hour. "Is this it?" She asked, "Desert?"

"Each city is different." Cameron stated. "The nearer we get to Acre and Masyaf, the more greenery there is," He explained, "Jerusalem is mainly desert, as is the poor district of Damascus."

"Poor district? There's more than one?"

The Assassin's exchanged glances, "There are three for each city." Altair explained, "They are divided by wealth. Poor, middle and rich."

"The poor district is the most dangerous." Cameron explained, "It's a good thing you were in middle."

Franchesca nodded her head in understanding, and that was all that was said on that topic. They rode in silence for a very long time after that, and it wasn't long until they reached the wooden sign leading them along the road towards Jerusalem. A line began to come into Franchesca's vision as she saw people filtering in and out of the city. "Where are they going?" She asked, noticing the saddlebags on the donkeys and horses.

"Most likely to trade their wares in other cities." Cameron explained.

The two Assassin's led their horses towards the stables and handed the boy two gold coins. As they made their way out of the stables, they stopped in their tracks. Where was Franchesca?

* * *

><p>The raven haired girl had stepped through the gates into Jerusalem and looked the entrance to the poor district in slight awe. It looked so different from Damascus, yet because she was in the poor district there was lack of quality in the buildings and streets. Franchesca began to walk through the market (all thoughts of waiting for the Assassin's had vanished upon entry to the city). She steered clear of the alleyways and continued on down the dirt road, keeping to the side to allow horses and carts to pass.<p>

Women carried clay pots upon their heads, Guards walked the streets on patrol and drunkards sloshed bottles of rum when they swaggered past.

Franchesca saw blacksmiths, brothels, bakers and various other shops. Stalls filled with brightly coloured food, material, clothing, jewellery and strange looking objects crowded the streets, and then she remembered that she wasn't supposed to be walking alone.

Franchesca continued on despite her thoughts, she knew they would find her wherever she would be. There was a group of five scholar's walking along the road to her right, and a man speaking aloud to the public on her left. She ignored both of them and carried on walking; taking in the sights of the poor district of Jerusalem around her.

Then she felt as though she was being watched.

Franchesca looked up at the rooftops, searching for a glimpse or two of white to let her know that it was only the Assassins. But upon finding no one, the feeling crept up on her, until she was paranoid. Deciding on the attempt at loosing this person, she continued on. There was no doubt in her mind that her follower knew she suspected them as her pace had quickened to a near jog.

The raven haired girl rounded a corner, and walked down a narrow alleyway (filled with terror) before stepping back out into the market. She then took a right turn and down another alley before stepping out onto a wider road. There were less villagers on this one, and she could see a Templar standing just across from her.

Knowing that there was a chance this man would help her, Franchesca slowly made her way towards him. "Excuse me?" She asked.

"What is it?" He demanded rather harshly.

"I'm really sorry to bother you but-" Her sentence finished with a scream as a blur of white dropped down in front of her. There was a flash of silver, a blood-curdling cry and a loud thud as the body of the Templar dropped to the ground.

The Assassin turned around, grabbed her hand and dragged her towards a ladder leading up to the roof.

"Who did this?" Someone cried. "Show yourself!"

Franchesca hurried up the ladder before being pulled onto the roof and dragged towards a roof garden. The Assassin dived in after her, "You drew on my face!" Cameron yelled furiously, ripping off his hood.

She ignored the black smears across his nose, forehead and chin. "Cameron! Thank goodness you're here! Someone was following me-"

"-It was me you idiot!" He growled, "I was in a group of scholars following you." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a slow, deep breath to calm himself. "Why did you run off?"

"I forgot to wait." She replied simply, "And can you blame me that I was a little curious?"

He got to his feet and stepped out of the roof garden - Franchesca followed after him, "We need to get to the middle district." He stated, beginning to walk across the rooftops, "Before we go to fathers', I need to drop into the Bureau. You'll have to wait outside."

"Can't you drop me off first?" She asked, "I don't want to just hang around outside..." She raised her eyebrows at him knowingly, "I'll probably walk off."

Cameron paused before looking back at his sister, "Alright." He replied in agreement.

They came to a plank leading from one roof to another and Cameron stopped to explain to his sister to be careful, but upon finding her gone, he turned around to spot her already halfway across the beam. Cameron quickly caught up with her, and they continued towards the next roof before coming to a stop in front of two big gates leading from the poor district into the middle district.

"Wait for me once you're inside the gates." Cameron stated, coming to stand directly in front of her.

"I'll wait by that fountain so you can wash your face." She replied, giggling before looking around the edges of the building for a ladder. As she descended the ladder, she chuckled at Cameron's frustrated groan and watched him jump across the road and grab onto a ledge on the wall.

Franchesca's feet touched the ground and she turned to walk through the gates into the middle district. There were four guards flanking each side, more than likely to ensure the people stayed in their correct district. As she walked past the guards, the two she walked between did cast her a suspicious glance - but did nothing. The same went for the guards on the other side.

As soon as the raven haired girl stepped into the middle district, she looked around for Cameron. Franchesca spotted him descending a wall, and waited for him to join her.

"Just up the hill." He stated as he joined her at the fountain.

As they stepped into an alleyway, a man who was grumbling to himself and flailing his arms about came towards them. Franchesca backed into Cameron for protection against the seemingly cursed man. The vagrant reached out and roughly shoved a woman carrying a clay pot - knocking it off her head and sending it to the ground with a clatter - and the woman turned around and pointed a blaming finger at Cameron.

"You better watch where you're going!" She scolded, placing her hands on her hips. Cameron only rolled his eyes, and took Franchesca's wrist as he dodged around the grumbling mad man.

They hopped up a small flight of steps and stepped into a bustling crowd of people, making their way towards a long narrow road, with a huge house at the end.

"I have to go to the Bureau." Cameron stated, stopping at the start of the lane. "Keep walking towards that house, father's there. I sent a bird to let him know we were on our way so he's expecting you."

Franchesca nodded, "Thank you, Cameron."

**A/N: Thank you for everyone who has been reading and has followed this story :) Please review and let me know what you think, things will really get going after the next chapter once Demetri is introduced!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Franchesca didn't want to knock on the door. Her nerves were getting the better of her. The raven haired girl had raised her hand numerous times but had failed to actually tap her knuckles across the wood at all. She sighed and closed her eyes before raising her hand once again, and finally knocking on the wood.

Then she felt as though she had knocked too loud, to abrupt and rash. But then she wondered whether or not she hadn't knocked loud enough. She would know when her father would open the door and lecture her on knocking politely.

The door swung open, more abruptly then she believed she had knocked. And the raven haired girl looked up into the brown eyes of a man with jet black hair. Franchesca frowned, for this man was most definitely too young to be her father.

"Demetri?" She asked. The man remained silent and unmoving at the door, and Franchesca worried that she had knocked rather rudely on the front door of a stranger, rather than her fathers house. "I'm sorry, did I disturb you?"

"Who are you?" The man demanded.

Franchesca was taken aback by the tone of the man's voice, and upon looking downwards, she noted that he only had one arm. "I may be at the wrong house," She explained, looking back up at him. "Does Demetri Chapman live here?"

"Who are you?" He demanded again.

"My name is Franchesca," She explained. "I come from Damascus...my brother told me that this was where I needed to go."

"Who's your brother?" The man asked.

"Cameron."

The man's expression fell from the stony anger to a mutual one instead. "Come inside, Demetri is expecting you."

Nervously, Franchesca stepped across the threshold and tiptoed around the man - not taking her suspicious eyes off of his face. She then noticed that his clothing was similar to that of Altair's and Cameron's, and she gasped before looking at him with wide eyes.

"What?" He snapped.

"Nothing." She responded quickly, hoping that he didn't think she was staring at his missing limb. She looked around and took in the grandeur of the house she was standing inside. Was this the home of all the Assassin's? Did this mean her father was an Assassin as well? Perhaps their leader?

"Come along." The unintroduced man stated, "Quickly." He walked ahead of Franchesca, and beckoned her to follow him with the one arm that he had.

Franchesca obliged, but kept a safe distance away from him. She thought about whether or not she was supposed to wait outside for Cameron, but it was definitely too late now!

"I hope you don't mind me asking," She began in a small voice, "But what is your name?"

"Malik."

"Well, Malik," She began, "It's nice to meet you."

He inclined his head towards her, and slowed his pace. "Where is Cameron?" He asked.

"I don't know." She responded honestly. "He said something about a Bureau?" The raven haired girl looked at the man's robes again, "As you wear the same robes as him, I assume you are one as well?"

"What?"

"An Assassin."

Malik was silent for a while, and hesitated before he continued to walk. "Quickly, now. I have somewhere else I need to be." Franchesca frowned as she continued to follow the one armed man. Had she upset him? Said something wrong? He pushed open a heavy looking door and ushered her inside. "She's here." He called to the white hooded man sitting at a desk in the far corner of the room.

He looked up, his face shrouded by his hood, "Oh? Thank you, Malik."

The door behind Franchesca was slammed shut, and the room was plunged into silence. The man put down his quill, stood up and moved around the side of his desk. "Are you Franchesca?" He asked, stepping onto the large Persian rug as he made his way towards her. He was quite threatening in his movements, especially with his hood up and his weapon clad body, but Franchesca stood her ground and simply nodded.

The Assassin stopped in front of her and examined her for a second. "You have hair like mine." He lightly touched it before inspecting her eyes, "And my father's eyes; like Cameron too." The Assassin raised his hand towards the throwing knives on his shoulder and Franchesca held her breath. His hand grabbed white cloth, and he pulled off his hood. He had the same shaped face as Cameron, and the same green eyes as well. But instead of being blonde, he had raven hair just like her own. "My daughter."

She threw her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, feeling tears building up in her eyes which she forbade from falling. She felt two large hands on her back where Demetri held her, and Franchesca couldn't hold her tears in any longer. She soaked the front of his white robes, and pulled away when she had no more tears left to shed.

They stared at each other for a moment before Demetri opened his mouth, "You have come to stay?" He asked.

"Well," She began. "I have nowhere else to go." She hung her head, hoping that she would not have to see Madam Gwen or go back to Damascus again.

"Then you will stay here." He stated with an air of finality. "Come," He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her towards the door. "I will show you to a room."

The grandeur of the hallway was absolutely lovely. Warm scarlet rugs with golden embroidery spread across the dark wooden floors, and candles stood in silver holders on the walls to light their way. The banister of the staircase was dark mahogany, with spiralled spindles standing regal and glossy.

Franchesca didn't have the immediate homely feeling she thought she would have upon being in her father's house. She felt like there was an underlying danger to the building, like the rich and glossy interior was only for show. And she was right to feel that way.

As they ascended the stairs, two more white hooded men appeared from around the corner. They paused in their movements to watch as Demetri led the beautiful girl up the stairs, and only carried on walking once the Assassin and the girl had passed by them.

Demetri stopped at the third door on the right and reached for the handle. As he opened the door, Franchesca could see the grandeur of the room, and was amazed at the size and quality of everything. "It's a lot bigger than my room in Damascus."

"Do you like it?"

Franchesca nodded, "It's lovely."

The walls and floor were dark mahogany, and there was a four poster bed with scarlet drapes and covers to match the thick curtains of the balcony doors. There was a lush, deep crimson rug spread across the flooring, and a desk sat in the corner with writing utensils and an oil lamp atop for use.

"Then you may have this room." He stated. "Cameron's is beside yours, and mine is down the hall and to the left. I will show you the library." He led her down the corridor, and into a room with an enormous array of books.

The shelves were as high as the ceiling and showered in various leather bound volumes, there was also a large table in the center of the room on top of a scarlet rug embroidered with gold; twelve chairs surrounded the table. It was not just a library, but a meeting room; Franchesca could tell.

"Do you like to read?" Demetri asked, looking at his daughter.

Franchesca looked up at him before looking away again, "I wish I could." She replied. "Madam Gwen never saw the point in having me taught."

"Then I shall have someone teach you." He stated, "Can you write?"

"No." Franchesca replied, "But I can draw simple things." She envisioned the brilliant moustache, beard and eyebrows she had drawn on Cameron's face.

"Then I shall have you taught to write as well."

Franchesca smiled up at Demetri, "Thank you."

He smiled back, "Cameron wrote in his letter that you were a curious girl." He began, "So feel free to explore my house and garden. If you are wary of any Assassin's, don't be. For I have informed them of your arrival when I received Cameron's letter." He stopped walking at the top of the stairs, "If you need me, or wish to ask anything, then I shall be in my study. Do not be afraid to just walk right in."

Franchesca nodded, and as soon as he had descended the stairs and disappeared inside his study, she turned around in the corridor and began to look around.

There were many rooms in the house, including an additional two bedrooms on the second floor. On the ground floor, there was Demetri's study, the dining hall, a kitchen with two side rooms. One for food storage, and the other for wine. There was a dining room adjacent to the kitchen, and another room similar to the library across from it.

On the outside grounds, Franchesca could see a large field, and some stables. She stepped inside to see five paddocks; two of which were occupied by chestnut geldings. One of which had a long white mark upon his muzzle.

She ran her hand along the muzzles of both horses before stepping outside again.

The raven haired girl returned to the house through the back door into the kitchen, and then into the Hall in which she had walked through with Malik earlier. The door to her father's study opened, and the familiar blonde haired, charcoal marked faced Assassin stepped out and greeted Franchesca with a smile.

"There you are!" He chuckled as he made his way towards her, "I thought you hadn't found your way here."

"I was just looking around," Franchesca replied.

"Yes, father said." Cameron stated, "How do you find everything?"

"There's a lot more places to see inside than back home in Damas." She replied, "It's wonderful."

"Excellent." The blonde replied, smiling. "Oh, the extra bedrooms are for Assassin's who come to Jerusalem for visiting. But since Malik was made the Dai, Altair uses a room when he's on an assignment."

Franchesca frowned, and followed her brother when he began walking up the stairs. "Does he not like Malik?" She could see his point if he didn't, the one armed man was very moody.

"There aren't many people Altair likes." Cameron replied with a sigh, "But it's actually _Malik_ who dislikes Altair, not vice versa."

She felt like she shouldn't pry, but curiosity got the better of her. "Why?" She asked.

Cameron sighed, "An assignment went wrong." He explained, "Malik lost his arm, and his brother."

"Was it Altair's fault then?" She asked.

Cameron chuckled slightly, "Your curiosity will get you into trouble one day, Franchesca." He stated, "But yes, it was his fault."

"My curiosity gets me answers, Cameron." Franchesca stated, "And you do give me answers willingly."

Cameron chuckled before turning to face Franchesca. "Very well." He stated, "I shall stop our conversation before I say something I shouldn't. I'll show you around the town tomorrow if you'd like?" He asked.

Her face lit up, "Yes please!"

"But you must promise not to run off."

She grinned, "I'll try."

For the remainder of the afternoon, she spent her time in her father's study with Demetri. He asked what she did with her time when she was in Damascus, and was quite intrigued to know she liked to climb the boathouse to look at the night sky, and the garden wall back in Damascus to sneak back in.

"You have a balcony for that." He stated, "Try not to climb onto the roof; Cameron tried when we moved here last year, but fell and broke his leg! Sneaking around will also be very difficult, no movement gets past us Assassins."

They realised they had similar traits in common. Demetri was very curious and rebellious in his childhood, had been determined to prove that he could do things without anyone's help, and - even now - he was ever so slightly impatient. They spoke with one another long into the night, and when Franchesca felt as though she had disturbed him for long enough, she bid him goodnight and retired for the evening.

After helping Cameron escort Franchesca into Jerusalem, Altair found himself returning to Masyaf to speak with Al Mualim. The Mentor had dismissed him from his duties for the meanwhile, so Altair found himself spending a lot of his time in the training area, and on rare occasions, in the Gardens of the fort with one of the many whores that were there for the Assassins uses.

As Master Assassin, Altair was frequently challenged in the sparring ring by the other Assassins. This would only lead to another victory under his belt, and he would bask in his pride, knowing that none but him were worthy of his Master Assassin title.

Altair, quite satisfied with the twelve hours of training he had done that day, was about to retire to his room for the night when he heard some of the Assassin's speaking to one another, about that girl from Damascus.

"Did you hear? Demetri has a daughter."

"That's old news, Runam." Came the reply, "He received a letter from a whore in Damascus twenty-odd years ago."

"She's a whore?"

One of them shrugged, "She lived in a brothel, didn't she?"

"She's spoilt then."

"I wonder if any of us have laid with her already?"

"She arrived in Jerusalem with Cameron a few days ago."

"In that case, I hope to receive an assignment in Jerusalem soon."

Altair rolled his eyes at the banter of the Assassin's before making his way towards his own chambers. He donned his weaponry as soon as he was inside his room, laying it out on his bed carefully before he removed his leather boots, sash and outer robes. He lay them across the back of his desk chair, before removing his under shirt and adding it to the pile. Now in his breaches, the Master Assassin grabbed a cloth and a whetstone, before making his way towards his bed.

One by one, he sharpened and tenderly polished the blades of his throwing knives until they glinted beautifully, then he did the same with his sword - taking extra care to sharpen the tip of the blade. The Assassin then got up to sheath the sword and place it on his desk before slotting each knife individually into their designated pouches. He then picked up his bracer, and sharpened the blade before slowly polishing the fine steel.

He spent more love cleaning his blades than he did with courtesans. But there was certainly no love involved there!

Altair _never_ made love. It was _just_ sex.

He knew he was handsome; all the courtesans swooned at his feet, and they all wished to be the one he chose for that night. But he didn't intentionally pick one over the other because of her beauty...he picked the one closest to reach for as he swaggered into the Garden. He never faced them either, looking into someone's eyes had an emotional connection. He usually took his women when she was either on all fours or bent over a desk.

His thoughts returned from their trip to the brothel when his finger nicked itself on his hidden blade.

Altair watched his own crimson blood stain his blade, and he reached for his bedside table for another cloth. He wiped the blood from his fingertip before re-cleaning his blade, and taking extra care in wiping away the old, dried blood in between each groove on his bracer before he placed it upon the desk with his other weaponry.

Altair blew out the candle lighting his chambers before tucking himself under the soft covers of his large bed. His thoughts drifted to the raven haired girl - Demetri's daughter. He hoped his words of warning to Cameron about Franchesca's tendencies of leaving during the night had been enough for the younger Assassin to keep his eyes on her.

Altair doubted it very much.

Although he was a good Assassin, Cameron was kind-hearted. He would make a good, reliable and loyal husband one day if the right woman came along. But Altair knew the attitude and disobedience from Franchesca would frustrate Cameron to no end, and the boy would let her get away with anything; that was just how he was with his family. A trait he had received from both his father and his grandmother.

Franchesca had been unlike most women he had met before. She should be subdued and obedient, but she was strong-willed and independent. A woman like that, in Altair's opinion, needed a husband who would be able to handle her disruptive and boyish tendencies.

Or she would have no husband at all, for no assassin would see their daughter married to a man that they believed would harm her.

He was sure Demetri would be able to keep her contained in his home. All he needed to do was feed her curiosity, like tell her there was a secret room somewhere. Which of course there wasn't.

Altair would hate to receive an assignment in Jerusalem, to find that he would spend the majority of his time keeping that girl out of trouble. How many times had he saved her now?

The Assassin quickly fell into slumber, and when morning came he readied himself for training. He began his day with a quick free-run around Masyaf, before entering the sparring ring.

Franchesca had awoken that morning, thankful that her escape from Damascus hadn't been a dream, and that she actually was in Jerusalem in her fathers' house. She sat up and stretched before swinging her legs out from the comfortable covers of the bed.

The raven haired girl washed and dressed in her blouse and breaches before leaving her room to go in search of Cameron. She had heard him leave his own room before she got up to bathe, and she was hoping that he was still going to show her around Jerusalem. If he didn't, then she was going to go anyway.

She descended the stairs into the hallway, and looked away from the two Assassin's making their way out of the dining room and towards the stairs. Franchesca could feel their watchful gazes as they passed her, and as she reached the bottom of the steps, Cameron made his appearance from Demetri's study.

He smiled towards her, "You're awake." He stated, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you." She replied, returning his smile. "Are we still going into the town?" She asked, hopeful.

"Of course." Cameron replied, gesturing for her to follow him into the kitchen. "You must have some breakfast first though. Ask Siobhan for whatever you'd like, she'll be happy to make anything for you." They stepped into the kitchen, and Franchesca was met with the smell of freshly baked bread and juicy ham. Her mouth watered, and she enjoyed each bite of her meal.

Cameron met her in the hallway, and together, they left the mansion and joined in with the hustle and bustle of the villagers in Jerusalem. The blonde Assassin pointed certain buildings out, showed her the markets, places she should avoid, the docks, and finally, the house of the Duke.

Demetri had to keep tabs on the man, and he would perhaps become a possible target for the older Assassin.

The Duke had something that Al Mualim wanted, and Demetri had been assigned the task of getting it back. And his plan was put into action that day.

That very morning, when Cameron took Franchesca into Jerusalem.

When Franchesca disappeared from Cameron's side.

Everything was put together when the Duke's son captured the emerald green eyes of the raven haired beauty with his own blue orbs.

**A/N: Thank you for all of the support so far :) Please review xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

When Cameron eventually made his way back to Franchesca, he was slightly surprised when he found her holding a small yellow flower. She looked a little confused as to why she was given one, but flattered all the same.

"Where did you get that?" He asked as they began their walk back towards the mansion.

"A man gave it to me." She replied. "It wasn't from him, but another man. He had been paid to be a messenger, I assume."

Cameron frowned. "Did he say who it was from?"

Franchesca shrugged, "I don't know." She replied, "But he gestured towards another man. He was watching me, and I would've thanked him for the flower, but he left when I began to approach him."

"You've been here barely a day and you have an admirer."

"There's so many people here, I doubt I'll see him again."

"You sound disappointed."

Franchesca shrugged, "I just wanted to thank him." And the young man had been quite handsome. Obviously shy as well, otherwise he would have approached her himself. Going to the extent of paying someone to deliver a single flower to a woman he had never spoken too was quite sweet, in Franchesca's opinion.

She voiced this to Cameron, who replied with his own opinion. "Or," He said. "He's a creep who wants you to think that."

"Why?"

Cameron rolled his eyes, "So you will seek him out to thank him, to which he may invite you back to his house."

"To which, I would politely decline."

"To which, he may not so politely drag you into the nearest brothel to do with you what he wanted to do at his house." He glanced at her, "And Altair isn't in Jerusalem anymore to come to your rescue."

"I can take care of myself."

Cameron raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing in response. Instead, he looked at the flower, and then towards the mansion at the end of the road ahead of them. "Just be careful." He stated, "If you do run into him again."

Franchesca rolled her eyes, "Thank you for your concern, but I am quite capable of taking care of myself." Cameron chuckled and shook his head, but said nothing in response.

They stepped into the foyer, and were greeted by the sight of four white robed men. They weren't full Assassin's – Franchesca noticed – as they sported light grey hoods, and little weaponry when compared to Cameron and Altair.

"Cameron!" One of them stated, stepping towards the Assassin. "We need your help."

"What can I do?" The blonde replied, his tone suddenly serious.

"On our way into Jerusalem, we were spotted by four Templars who chased us around the poor district. We managed to lose them, but were too far from the Bureau to risk being seen. They'll kill us if they catch sight of us again! Please, take them out for us, so we can continue with our required business."

Cameron nodded, "Of course." He replied, "The poor district, did you say?"

"Yes, four of them."

"I'll come back once I am done." He turned to face his sister, "Franchesca…" Her expression was unreadable. "What?" He asked.

"Can I come too?" She asked.

He pondered for a second before replying with a single word, "No." The blonde turned to leave, but Franchesca was persistent on going with him.

"Please?" She asked, "I won't get in the way-"

"-It's too dangerous." He stated, placing his hand on the door handle.

"I can distract them!" She exclaimed, "And then you can swoop in, like yesterday."

"Yesterday, was yesterday." He replied, turning to face her. "Today is a different day."

Franchesca sighed and crossed her arms, "I will just follow you."

"Father!" Cameron called, as Demetri appeared from his office along with two other assassin's. "She won't leave me alone."

"Where are you going?"

"On an assignment." The blonde replied.

"Franchesca, it's too dangerous." Demetri stated, "But if you want to go out, then I'm sure Nabil and Tanis will escort you around the city."

Cameron opened his mouth to protest. He knew the two assassin's would lose the girl, who would miraculously appear under his own nose. Not only that, but the two were terrible flirts who spent time in which they could be training, at a brothel.

"I think that's a wonderful idea!" Franchesca stated, smiling towards her father.

The assassin's exchanged looks with one another before walking towards the raven haired girl.

"Father!" Cameron began his protest, "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"Yes." Demetri stated. "I've informed them of everything."

The blonde hesitated, but nodded in agreement. His father knew best, of course. And for his plan to work, Franchesca would need to be out of the mansion as much as possible. But he was still wary of the girl appearing at his side during his own missions.

"Fine," He stated, turning to face the two assassin's standing behind his sister. "Keep an eye on her." He explained, "She tends to wander off."

Tanis chuckled, "I'm sure I can keep watch on her."

Cameron raised an eyebrow, "She slipped away from both Altair and I, and we hadn't even been in Jerusalem for five minutes."

That certainly wiped the confident smirk from the assassin's faces.

Satisfied, Franchesca quickly left the mansion with Cameron, Nabil and Tanis following behind her. "No _look_ looking at her, only enough so you can keep her out of trouble," She could hear Cameron ordering. "And if you see me, _don't _point me out."

"Yes, yes, Cameron." Nabil stated, "What else?"

"And no flirting." The blonde stated with an air of finality. "Otherwise I'll tell my father."

Franchesca ignored them from the moment she stepped into the town. A sapphire blue cape caught her eye, and a head of blonde hair. Her sharp intake of breath caught the attention of all three assassin's standing behind her.

"What is it?" One of the Novice's asked.

"Are you hurt?" Cameron placed a hand on her shoulder cautiously.

"The cape!" She pointed out, "That was the cape of the man who gave me the flower!"

Cameron sighed, "And keep an eye out for _him._" Both Novice's looked away from the blonde and nodded.

"Where is she?" Tanis asked.

Cameron turned around and groaned. Franchesca had slipped away from _three _assassins. "Find her." He stated, "I've got to go."

As Cameron slipped off into the crowded streets of Jerusalem, Tanis and Nabil began their search for the raven haired girl. She couldn't have gotten far. But they took to the rooftops anyway, looking out for the recognizable navy blue hood of the girl and the sapphire cape of the Duke's son.

Franchesca had lost him.

The handsome blonde must have taken an alleyway or something, which she must have missed.

Franchesca sighed before turning to look back at the three assassin's following her – only to find that they had disappeared. Where did _they_ wander off to?

She backtracked, and made her way back through the market towards the path that led back towards her father's mansion. But they weren't there.

Franchesca sighed and began to look around the rooftops for the assassins she had been walking with moments before. But not for the two who were supposed to be looking after her (for she didn't _need _looking after). But she was looking for Cameron.

She was intrigued to know what he was doing besides killing some Templars. How did he find them? How did he know that they were the specified target he was looking for? They all appeared to look the same according to Franchesca.

How she would tell which assassin was Cameron, she wasn't sure. But she was going to look for a white robed, weapon clad being, who was alone.

As she found herself beside the docks, she spotted a white flash ducking into a roof garden.

Franchesca frowned, before deciding to investigate. Of course, she wasn't going to disturb her brother, just simply follow him around until he had finished whatever he wanted to finish.

"Excuse me?"

Franchesca looked around for the voice, and upon feeling a small tug on her navy cloak, looked down and into the innocent, deep brown eyes of a young girl.

"That man over there keeps who keeps looking at you…"

Franchesca looked over to where the young girl was pointing, before spotting the young blonde man in the sapphire blue cloak.

"…I think he wishes to speak with you, he asked me to give you this."

The young girl handed Franchesca a small yellow flower, and Franchesca accepted it with a small smile towards the girl. "Would you tell him that I said thank you?" She asked.

The young girl nodded enthusiastically before running off across the courtyard towards the man. Once he was occupied in speaking with the young girl, Franchesca slipped away from the courtyard, blushing lightly. All thoughts of investigating the assassin on the rooftops vanished from her mind, and as soon as she stopped in the market beside a fountain, two assassin's joined her.

"Where did you go?" Nabil and Tanis asked.

Franchesca shrugged, "For a walk." She replied.

"The sun is setting." Tanis stated, "We should return to the mansion."

"Why?" Franchesca asked. "Are you afraid of the dark?"

Nabil chuckled lightly, which caused Tanis to elbow him in the ribs. "Definitely not." He replied, his voice monotone. "I'm just taking precautions in ensuring your safety. The streets of Jerusalem are dangerous at night."

Franchesca felt her eye twitch, but kept her mouth shut. Instead, she began to walk back towards the mansion, her curiosity about Jerusalem had peaked. And Franchesca knew that it would be a lot more difficult sneaking out of the mansion, when compared to sneaking out of the brothel back in Damascus.

She was a little disappointed that she hadn't spotted Cameron anywhere. She would have liked to watch him assassinate the Templars, to see how it was done, for she didn't know when her throwing knife skills would be put to the test, if ever. Not that she _had_ ever thrown a knife in her life.

As they arrived back at the mansion, the assassin's parted from Franchesca as soon as she had begun to climb the stairs. They, on the other hand, knocked softly on the door to Demetri's study, and entered when given permission to do so.

Once she had entered her room, Franchesca made her way towards her desk and placed the small yellow flower into the vase to join the other one. She now had two from the mysterious, handsome man, and she wondered if she would be able to speak to him if she saw him again.

* * *

><p>Altair made his way into the citadel of the assassins. He had been requested to see Al Mualim that afternoon, and was on his way to visit him to see what the Master wanted.<p>

As he ascended the stairs and made his way along the corridor, he could see Al Mualim awaiting his arrival.

He stopped on the symbol of the creed, "You requested to see me, Master?"

"Altair," Al Mualim greeted. "I'm pleased you've come. I have received news from Jerusalem that the mysterious artefact in the possession of the Duke is close to our retrieval."

"And you wish for me to get it for you?"

Al Mualim shook his head, "I gave this task, along with the head of the Duke to Demetri a year ago. I have reason to believe that his daughter has found him, twenty years after he received a letter from a whore in Damascus, telling him that she was with child."

"Yes, Master."

"Demetri has informed me that he intends to include his daughter in his plans to retrieve the artefact, which is guarded by the Duke's son. As the man is an innocent, Demetri cannot retrieve the artefact without breaking one of the three tenants, therefore the girl will be a decoy for him to achieve success."

"And what would you like me to do?"

"Ride to Jerusalem, and ensure the girl's task runs smoothly. She knows nothing, though. Don't let any information slip."

"I will see that it is done, Master. I will leave right away."

"I will send a letter to Demetri, informing him of your arrival, and of your task."

Altair bowed his head slightly before turning on his heel, and leaving the citadel. He free ran through the streets of Masyaf, doing Leaps of Faith wherever necessary to reach the lower levels of the city.

Once he reached the main gates, he mounted a black stallion before galloping along the dirt road, towards Kingdom.

* * *

><p>Franchesca was in the stables that next morning when she heard the sound of approaching hooves.<p>

For once, she was wearing a dress. It was plain, dark green and had long, fitted sleeves, and she hated it. The woman who had helped her into it had said it was very flattering, and although Franchesca did look pretty, she longed for her breaches. The reason for her dress? Demetri had found someone to teach her how to read and write.

The raven haired girl was petting the single chestnut gelding when a black stallion trotted into the stables.

A white robed assassin was riding atop the magnificent horse, and he dismounted swiftly before taking the reins in his hand and leading the stallion into the stall furthest from the raven haired girl.

Franchesca watched him with curious eyes. Was _this _her tutor? An assassin?

She shrugged, and gave the horse a final pat before turning on her heel and stepping into the courtyard. Franchesca grimaced at the dress she held up from the ground as she ran back into the house, passing Cameron as she made her way up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

She sighed and turned around, "To change." She replied. "I've never worn a dress in my life and I hate it already."

"I think you look nice." He stated sincerely. The look on her face made the blonde chuckle, "Look," He began. "If you wear it until you've finished your lesson, I'll take you into the town."

"At night." She stated.

"Why?" He frowned, "The streets are dangerous then."

"I survived in Damascus."

"This is Jerusalem."

"But _you'll_ be with me_._" She supplied, "And as I'm being taught how to read and write, why can't you teach me how to kick some ass?" Demetri, along with a hooded assassin, stopped walking towards the study, and turned to face the young lady. "And they obviously agree."

"_I_ certainly don't."

Altair's voice was unmistakeable, and it caused Franchesca's heart to drop. Why the bloody hell was he here?

"I don't think a little combat training will be bad." Demetri stated, "She shouldn't need it, but it wouldn't hurt her to be prepared." He then turned to the girl, "Your tutor is in the library, waiting for you."

Franchesca thanked her father, glared at Altair and informed Cameron that she would see him later that evening.

She was nervous, but excited about her tutoring and as she stepped inside the library, she was greeted by an old, frail man in white robes.

"Please, come in and sit down, dear." He seemed fairly friendly, so Franchesca had no objection to taking the chair beside him. "Pick up the quill, and we'll begin."

As Franchesca grabbed the feathered pen as if it were a knife, the man was quick to correct her so that her hand was holding the tip between three fingers, like a tripod.

"I've written each letter of the alphabet out on this piece of paper, if you would copy them as best as you can…" He leant in close to her hand so that he could see clearly.

Franchesca's eyebrows knitted together in concentration as she looped, dotted and crossed her letters. As soon as she had finished, she set down the quill and released a deep breath. "Done."

The old Rafik picked up the sheet of parchment and held it close to his face, "Very good…" He murmured to himself. "Are you sure you haven't written before?" He asked.

Franchesca shook her head, "No." She replied, "But I used to trace my fingers over letters in books when I was younger."

The old Rafik nodded to himself before giving her another piece of paper, but this time, with Capital letters.

In that moment, Franchesca decided that she disliked writing as much as she hated Madam Gwen.

**A/N: I know this chapter was a little jumpy, however, now Altair has arrived back in Jerusalem things are about to get much more interesting ;) Please leave me a review, and if you would like - check out my other Assassin's Creed story '_The Exception of Curiosity'_.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"I hate it." She informed Cameron that evening as they walked through the streets of Jerusalem. Merchants were packing away their wares and closing down their stalls, to return home to their families. The sun had set, and the sky was a dark red. "The man is nice enough, but there are two sets of each letters! It's so repetitive, and boring."

Cameron chuckled, and gestured for the raven haired girl to ascend a ladder onto the roof of a building. "It'll be worth it in the end." He stated, "If your admirer decides to write you a letter, you can write back to him."

"But I could just ask someone else to read it out to me." Franchesca replied, pulling herself onto the rooftop, "Like with mothers' diary."

Cameron wrinkled his nose, "I don't think anyone would be willing to read your love letters."

"Speaking of letters," Franchesca began. "I have one that I need to give to father. Max found it in mothers' diary." She stopped walking, to wait for Cameron to catch up. "But I'll have to find it again. Which will be difficult."

He caught up with her, and pulled his outer clothes further around his body. "Are you cold?" He asked.

Franchesca shook her head, "No. But why aren't you wearing your usual clothes?"

"These _are_ my usual clothes." Cameron replied, "When I don't have an assignment."

Franchesca looked at him carefully, "Are you cold?

"No." He replied.

"You're lying."

"No I'm not!"

"You are! You're just saying you're not, because I'm not."

Cameron rolled his eyes, "Fine, I'm cold. Does this mean we can go home?"

Franchesca rolled her eyes, "No. This means you should have worn your thicker clothing."

The blonde shivered again, but continued to follow the raven haired girl towards the edge of the building. "We shouldn't go too close to the docks." He stated, "They're swarming with drunkards at this time."

Franchesca grimaced, "Then we shall have to go somewhere else." She stated, "What did you do when you were younger?"

"I'm only twenty-three." He stated, "How much younger?"

"When you weren't an assassin."

Cameron frowned in thought, "That's quite a long time ago." He stated, "I was in training from when I was eleven."

Franchesca rolled her eyes, "Yes, well, in your free time?"

"I would look for things to collect."

"Like what?" The raven haired girl asked, with interest.

Cameron shrugged, before holding his hand out to help his sister descend a stack of crates, "Anything I could find. It was usually stones."

"Funny shaped ones?"

The blonde nodded, "And marbled ones. You know, with the swirly patterns?"

Franchesca shrugged, "I have to be honest and say that I haven't looked at a stone with any sort of interest. But I did bring a worm home once," She smiled at the fond memory. "I don't think I've ever heard a courtesan scream so loud in my life."

Cameron chuckled, but refrained himself from making a comment in relation to her statement.

"Can I see the stone collection?"

"You think I still have them?" Cameron asked.

"Of course you do." Franchesca rolled her eyes, "No one would get rid of something they put a lot of thought into."

"Actually, it was thrown out."

Franchesca looked horrified, "What possessed you to do such a thing!" She demanded.

"Well, the other boys in my training class used to tease me and…" He trailed off and cast a glance towards the raven haired girl. "Don't ever repeat what I just said."

She waved a hand, "Don't worry about it, I used to be bullied by the other girls back in Damas."

"How old were you?" Cameron asked.

"Well, it was ongoing really. They never stopped." Franchesca shrugged, "They said it was weird that I would choose to wear men's clothing."

"Those corsets don't look very comfortable."

Franchesca shook her head, "I think they're meant for suffocation."

They descended a ladder into the city, and took a road towards the left. A brothel stood in front of them, and Cameron was quickly approached by two girls. He seemed to _know _one of them, so much so, that the second walked off and Franchesca slowly backed away from the two.

"I'll see you back at home, Cameron!" Franchesca stated as she slowly made her way back along the road. The street was dark and deserted, and Cameron was right; it was quite chilly.

Franchesca pulled her navy cloak tighter around her body to keep herself warm. She didn't want to admit it, but she was quite frightened! Franchesca continued along the road and down a small alleyway which was dimly lit.

She had previously walked _over _the alleyway with Cameron, but she was tired and didn't particularly want to cross the rooftops.

As she took one step inside, she immediately took a step back and continued on her way around the block. She could just about make out the silhouette of a mad man swinging his arms around, and she didn't think anyone would be close enough to hear her cries for help if something did happen to her.

When a white blur appeared in front of her, she took a startled step backwards and prepared herself to scream for help.

"Why are you alone?"

The voice was unmistakeably Altair's, and Franchesca immediately calmed herself upon knowing that she wasn't about to be abducted, raped or attacked. _Hopefully_.

"Where's Cameron?"

She still couldn't find her voice, and she could see the Assassin becoming visibly annoyed.

"I don't take lightly to being ignored."

"He went into a brothel." She replied.

His temper was clearly becoming more and more irritated, and he sighed in frustration. "Come on." He roughly grasped her forearm and pulled her down the street, and back towards the brothel.

Altair turned around and clutched the raven haired girl by both shoulders, "Stay here." He demanded, "If you take even a step away from this spot, you'll be in trouble."

She watched as the assassin swaggered into the brothel, ignoring the appreciative looks given to him by the more-than-friendly whores that were swooning at his feet. As soon as he had disappeared inside, Franchesca immediately felt vulnerable and wary about where she was and who was surrounding her.

She tried to make herself feel inconspicuous and invisible, but she just gained herself more attention. It was as though she was suddenly being hounded by the drunk men hanging around outside.

Franchesca met the eyes of a shabby, dirty drunk, and immediately averted her gaze to the ground in front of her, and bit her lip nervously.

He took the innocent actions as a sign to approach her, but someone else beat her too it.

"I need to get you out of here."

Altair's voice broke through her thoughts, and he took her by the arm to lead her out of the alleyway.

"Aren't we waiting for Cameron?" She asked, quickening her pace so that the assassin wasn't dragging her behind him.

"A second longer and the man standing beside the barrel would have had you." Altair stated, "It was good that I appeared when I did."

"I could have taken care of myself." Franchesca replied, stubbornly.

"You cannot reason with a drunken man." Altair supplied, "They will not take no for an answer, especially from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, offended.

"Drunk or not, a man can spot a virgin anywhere."

"Altair!" The assassin stopped walking, pulling the raven haired girl to a stop beside him. Cameron quickly caught up with them, pulling on his outer coat as he came to a halt beside them. The blonde glared at the raven haired girl, "You told on me?"

Franchesca shrugged, "Actually, I was walking back-"

"-You shouldn't have left her alone, especially at night. You know what the streets of Jerusalem are like." Altair scolded. "Especially outside a brothel."

Cameron smirked at Franchesca and slung his arm around her shoulders, "You know what, Chesca? I think he'd softening up to you."

"Are you drunk?" Franchesca asked the blonde.

"Are you mad!" Altair demanded, beating Cameron upside his head.

The blonde rubbed his head before lightly elbowing Altair in the ribs, "You don't look after _me_ this way!"

The Assassin grabbed hold of the blonde's wrist and twisted his arm backwards painfully, "Sober yourself up before showing yourself to Demetri, boy! He'll want an explanation for this."

Cameron snatched his arm away from Altair and rolled his eyes, "What are you? Her husband or something?"

"You're close to sleeping in the gutter." Altair growled, balling his hands into fists at his sides.

"Chesca-" Cameron stopped talking when he turned to face where the raven haired girl had once been standing. "Where did she go?"

"She's in front." Altair stated, "Unlike you, I've been keeping an eye on her."

"Such a pervert." Cameron rolled his eyes, "You know, you're lucky my father isn't here, he'd probably gauge your eyes out."

Altair cursed under his breath before placing his hand on the back of the blonde's neck and giving him a rough shove into the fountain.

The shock of the cold water appeared to sober the blonde assassin up. Cameron re-surfaced, coughing and spluttering as he did so. Franchesca made no bid to turn around, nor did Altair stop in his stride or stop to help Cameron out of the fountain.

They arrived back at the mansion late that evening, Franchesca began to ascend the stairs to head to her room, as Altair did for his own. Cameron on the other hand, walked right into Demetri's study to relay what had happened that evening, and to tell him that Altair had his eagle eyes on Franchesca.

After her reading lesson the next morning, Franchesca took herself into the town. She wanted to see if that handsome blonde man would be there, and if he was, would he gift her with another flower?

She took her time to look around the market, the jewellery and flower stalls were the ones that caught her eye in particular. She didn't make any purchases, she wasn't _intending_ to make any purchases either. The raven haired girl simply wanted to see the man again.

And it wasn't long until a sapphire blue cloak caught her eye either. She only just saw it swish past the flower stand, and disappear down the street, but she knew that it belonged to whom she was looking for.

Franchesca followed him along the street, and when he stopped to sit beside the fountain, she sat down on the bench across from him.

What would she say when she approached him? What would happen after that?

Franchesca ran a hand through her long dark tresses, closed her eyes and took a nervous breath. When she opened her eyes, however, a sapphire blue cloak was the first thing she saw. She blinked, and looked up into the eyes of the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes upon.

He held out his hand towards her, and as Franchesca took it, the handsome blonde gently helped her up until she was standing before him. His blue eyes met with her mossy ones as his thumb lightly caressed her hand. With eye contact still intact, he lightly brushed his lips against the back of her hand, "You're even more beautiful up close." He breathed as he lightly released her hand.

Franchesca's heart jumped into her throat, and she could do nothing more than smile, enchanted by his gentlemanly manners, "Thank you for the flowers, they're beautiful."

The man smiled charmingly, "I could not help myself." He stated, "I must know your name."

The raven haired girl mentally swooned. His smile, his words… "My name is Franchesca."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful young lady." The blonde handed the raven haired girl another yellow flower from beneath his cloak, "Forgive me," He began. "I had to deliver this one personally."

"I'm glad." Franchesca smiled at the man.

"I regret to do this, Franchesca, but I must return home. I have a lot of work needing to be taken care of…will I see you again?"

The raven haired girl nodded, "I hope so."

He smiled charmingly once again before taking her hand and placing a sweet kiss upon her knuckles. "Au revoir, mademoiselle. It has been a pleasure."

Before Franchesca could say anything else to him, he turned on his heel and dispersed into the crowd.

Altair rolled his eyes at the display in front of him.

He could quite easily see what the man's aim was. Get the girl into bed.

Of course, if Al Mualim hadn't told him of the girl's role in Demetri's little plan then the Assassin would have made his presence known and interrupted their introductory meeting.

He sighed in boredom, and continued to watch on from his position on the bench across the street from the couple.

_Couple?_

He'd already dubbed the two as a _couple?_

Altair scowled at the man's retreating back, which did not go unnoticed by the assassin who suddenly sat down beside him.

"Could someone be jealous that they're not getting any of the attention from my dear sister?" Cameron teased. Altair glared darkly at the blonde, causing the younger assassin to chuckle and then gasp as if in realisation, "You like my sister." The Master assassin certainly didn't like that comment, and proved his dislike towards it by punching Cameron on the arm.

"She is insufferable and troublesome."

"All the more reason to prove my suspicion." Cameron shrugged, "Those two traits obviously keep you entertained, Altair."

Altair ignored the blondes comment, and simply stood up once Franchesca began to leave the square.

"Stalking her now, are we?"

"My assignment from Al Mualim is to ensure that she does her part."

Cameron hesitated before getting to his feet, "You're insurance for her."

"Not exactly, but you can call it that."

"Look after her."

Altair glanced at the other assassin as he began to follow Franchesca through the crowd, "Haven't I already done my fair share?"

Cameron sighed, "I'm going to Acre for a few days." He stated, "So I'm not going to be around to keep her out of trouble."

"You don't keep her out of trouble anyway." The Master Assassin sighed before reluctantly nodding, "I'll keep an eye out."

"Both eyes would be more comforting." Cameron supplied, "You know how she wanders off. Slipped away from me, Nabil _and_ Tanis yesterday. Your work's really cut out for you this time."

"I enjoy being challenged."

"Because you get to show off."

"I don't show off. I set my goals high and aim to perfect."

Cameron raised an eyebrow but said nothing in response as they followed Franchesca around the same block of houses. "She knows we're following her."

Altair sighed before quickening his pace, Cameron followed, and soon they were walking either side of the raven haired girl.

"Another flower?" Cameron asked.

Franchesca nodded, smiling, "And this time, he gave it to me himself."

Cameron raised an eyebrow, "So do you have a name for this…admirer, of yours?"

Franchesca stopped walking and frowned, "I forgot to ask."

The blonde rolled his eyes, "How can you forget to ask someone for their name? Especially when they give you a gift!"

The raven haired girl shrugged, "I don't know, I just did."

"He is the son of the Duke." Altair stated. Franchesca's heart dropped when she recognised the voice of the Assassin. "His name is Dominic."

The raven haired girl said nothing in response to the information kindly given to her, only looked up at the eagle with a raised eyebrow. "So he's a Templar?"

Cameron looked at his sister, "His father is, so he will be. But how do you know that?"

"I overheard father talking about the Duke. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I was going to speak to him and…it just sounded interesting."

It was Altair's turn to look at her, "What did you overhear?"

She shrugged, "I didn't understand anything really, something about an artefact he needed to get." She frowned suspiciously at the Assassins, "Onto more important matters, this man is a Templar, shouldn't you be telling me to stay away from him?"

The Assassin's exchanged glances before Altair replied, "He's not a Templar, his father is. He's an innocent."

The raven haired girl said nothing more on the subject, instead, she questioned Cameron. "Did you find anything today?"

The blonde shrugged, "Not much. But I'll be travelling to Acre tomorrow for a few days."

"Can I come?"

He laughed uneasily and shook his head, "I'm afraid not."

"I'll be quiet." Cameron snorted in response. "Come on, I won't get in the way!"

"Your curiosity gets the better of you, Chesca." The blonde replied as they made their way across the courtyard towards the house, "I may be back sooner than that, depending on my mission. But don't worry, Altair will be here to keep you company."

The look on both of their faces was priceless.

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who is 'following' this story! Let's see if this chapter can hit 5 reviews by the end of the week, and if it does I will update 2 chapters instead of the usual 1 :) xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Franchesca watched from her bedroom window as Cameron raced across the courtyard and into the town. Demetri was standing in the centre of the courtyard speaking with one of the assassins, probably about the mysterious artefact he had to retrieve.

The raven haired girl sighed before turning on her heel and leaving her chambers. She was wearing her breaches and a shirt, along with her dark navy hooded cloak as she was heading into the town.

But she would have to be devious, for she didn't want to be escorted by Altair. Or followed.

Slowly, she opened her bedroom door and stepped out. Once the coast was clear, she crept down the stairs before running along the corridor and stepping into the kitchen. The cook appeared to be elsewhere, so Franchesca easily slipped out of the back door and past the vegetable patches.

As the raven haired girl reached the edge of the building leading onto the front courtyard, she paused to peer around the brick wall.

Altair and Demetri were still speaking with one another, and judging by his height it was Demetri who faced her, and that meant the arrogant stalker had his back to her.

When they turned to go into the stables, Franchesca darted around the back and ran around the outside, making sure she was silent so the assassin's didn't think there was an intruder.

Once she was sure they were inside, she made her move and darted across the courtyard, sticking as close to the bushes as she could manage.

Franchesca ran along the dirt road towards the town in hopes of catching up with Cameron before he left for Acre. But he was on horseback, so Franchesca knew it would be difficult in making it to the city gates on time.

She pushed past people going about their daily business; women carrying clay pots, merchants delivering and setting up their wares, and the odd hung-over man making his way home from one of the many brothels, or the tavern.

Franchesca ran into the poor district, determined to get to the gates and grab a horse to join her brother on his journey to Acre. Her body, however, was not as determined as her mind. Her lungs protested from running any further, as did the muscles in her legs.

She gradually slowed to a stop just beside the city gates and watched on in disappointment as a white hooded Cameron cantered out of sight into Kingdom on his chestnut mare.

As the raven haired girl turned around to make her way back to the Middle District, she realised that she was hopelessly lost. She bit her lip as she looked around her dirt covered surroundings for any sign of an assassin; she doubted very much that the Duke's son would be in the poor district.

Franchesca began walking in the direction she believed would lead her back, and she kept her eyes open for any white hooded assassins that she could ask for directions from.

She climbed onto the roof of a building, to try and get a better perspective of where she was. And ducked into a nearby roof garden once an archer threatened to draw closer towards her. She was in desperate need of a map.

The raven haired girl remained inside whilst the guard hung around on the opposite side of the wall.

She closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath before snapping her eyes open upon hearing a muffled gargle, and then a thump.

The girl almost screamed when the curtains tore open and someone joined her inside the roof garden.

The assassin turned to face her immediately and sighed. "Your father is worried."

Of course it was Altair, Franchesca scolded herself for hoping any differently, "He needn't be."

The assassin ignored her comment, "Why are you in the poor district?"

"How did you know I was here?" She demanded.

Franchesca could feel the assassin's scowl on her as he replied, "I saw you leaving the mansion," He responded. "I've been looking for you; including roof gardens. Now, why are you in the poor district?"

The raven haired girl peered out of the roof garden before turning back to glare at the arrogant assassin, dubbed as her escort. "I was following Cameron. But he left before I could catch up."

"A good thing too," Altair replied. "I wouldn't want to ride through the desert after you."

Franchesca glared at him before getting to her feet and leaving the roof garden, "Go away!" She snapped.

"I suspected you to be lost," She knew he was wearing a smirk. "And thought you might need a hand in returning to the middle district."

Stubbornly, the raven haired girl refused to accept his help. "I will find my own way back." Carefully, she tiptoed across a wooden beam leading from one roof to another.

"You're frustratingly slow." Altair stated from right behind her.

She sped up, much to his surprise, and made it across in one piece. Next she descended a ladder, and stepped into the horrid streets of the poor district. She looked left and right, but upon spotting a group of guards on patrol, she decided to turn right to go through a small alley and into a market on the other side.

Franchesca moulded herself closer to the wall to prevent the vagrant from pushing her or striking her with his flailing arms. Altair merely barged past the man as he passed, and showed no remorse over his cruel actions.

The raven haired girl came to a stop at a crossroads, and frowned. She couldn't remember passing through this place before, and didn't know whether to turn left or right. She sighed before reaching for the nearest ladder and climbing onto the roof where she could get a good enough view of her surroundings.

She dodged past an archer; edging across a beam onto the next rooftop where Altair appeared in front of her.

He obviously had had enough of wandering around the poor district, and took her by the elbow and down a stack of crates onto the road. The assassin continued to lead the way, turning right as he stepped into the middle district first.

The raven haired girl tore her arm from his hold, scowling angrily up at him. "I said I didn't need your help."

The assassin crossed his arms, "I no longer wanted to play your silly little game. Now you are in the middle district, I will keep my distance from both you and your insolent ways!"

The raven haired girl turned on her heel without another word, and stormed off into the streets of the middle district. Hopefully she would lose him in a crowd before he climbed onto the rooftops to stalk her from a distance.

She wasn't sure what she should do for the day. She didn't want to look for the Duke's son, because Altair was the stalker, not herself. Instead, the raven haired girl sighed.

There was no adventure for her in Jerusalem.

She thought about staying out until after dark when the streets would be emptied, perhaps then she'd find something to do? Something she would enjoy; preferably going to the docks to watch the night sky?

The raven haired girl sighed as she wandered through the busy streets of Jerusalem.

She wasn't watching where she was going until she was roughly shoved by a vagrant. The shock of it caused her to scream.

As she tried to move around the man, he came at her again! Franchesca winced as her shoulder smashed into the stone wall beside her, and she only moved again once the man meandered away from her crouched form.

She shivered and continued on, only looking at her surroundings once she came to the realisation that she was (again) hopelessly lost.

Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea that she had slipped away from the assassin's view. What if she was attacked and molested by a guard like she had been in Damascus? What if she was murdered?

She took a seat on a nearby bench to try and take a guess as to where she had slipped off to, and darted her eyes upwards once she caught a glimpse of a sapphire blue cloak.

But it wasn't the handsome blonde man, it was a simple peasant. And upon closer inspection, it wasn't as deep a blue as the Duke's sons; this one was dull, and stained.

The raven haired girl stood up before walking around the side of the building and slowly pulling herself onto the rooftop above, from there, perhaps, she would get an idea as to where she should be going.

Franchesca had decided that she didn't like Jerusalem. Everything looked the same from where she was standing, the rooftops were the same sandy brown, the towers were the same shape and the streets were all filled with scrawny merchants.

Was she in the poor district again?

The girl sighed before turning around, and making her way across the rooftops.

* * *

><p>Altair sat in Demetri's office before the older assassin, listening to the man explain his thoughts.<p>

Honestly, the Master Assassin couldn't care about what he had in store for his long-lost daughter. As long as Altair didn't fail his part, he didn't care if the girl got raped or forced into a marriage she possibly did not want.

"I need you to find the Duke's son," Demetri was saying as he rifled through pieces of parchment. "Or at least lead Franchesca to him."

The eagle simply nodded his head in response, "I can see that done." It was why Al Mualim had assigned him responsibility over the girl, he would ensure she did her part properly, and played right into their hands.

The Master Assassin then saw a different side of Demetri, one he had only ever seen when discussing Cameron. It was fatherly protectiveness. "Altair," He began. "I do not want this to go through to the end." He stated, "I want her out as soon as this is over. Before anything is formed, before any _feelings _arise. I do not want her in danger." The room was silent as the assassin nodded his head, "I do not wish to ask too much of you, for I know you did not wish this task to have been placed upon your shoulders, but make sure _nothing _happens to her."

Altair felt cold eyes upon him, eyes that meant business, eyes only meant for a Target, "If a single hair on her head is harmed, not only will I kill this man and his Templar father, but I will hold you responsible."

The Master Assassin smirked, "I can assure you, Demetri. I have no intention of failing my tasks."

"Then find her and return her to the mansion." The older assassin stated, gesturing towards the windows. "It is growing dark outside, I do not wish for her to be out this late with all of those Templar _rats_."

* * *

><p>Franchesca was frightened. The market had closed, and the streets were almost deserted. Where was Altair? A bloody great stalker he had turned out to be!<p>

She reassured herself that he was around somewhere. After all, a stalker wouldn't let their prey out of their sight!

She jumped at the slightest of sounds, and turned to walk in the direction she had come as soon as she saw someone walking towards her.

Like a mouse surrounded by cats, Franchesca began to panic. If Altair made his presence known to her right at that very moment, she would throw her arms around him and probably cry with relief.

"Hello there, beautiful."

The raven haired girls eyes widened as she stopped in her stride, and slowly turned around to face the gruff voice that had spoken.

A dirty, drunken man stood before her; to close for comfort! So close, in fact, that she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

She took a step backwards, not sure whether to punch him and make a run for it, or wait for her stalker to do the acting.

She decided not to wait. The man took a drunken stumble towards her, and grasped hold of her arm in a sharp, powerful grasp. Franchesca winced, tears sprang to her eyes when she couldn't shake herself free and she was pulled closer towards him.

The raven haired girl tried to use her weight to release herself, but the drunk appeared intrigued by her choice of location, "I was going to choose somewhere private, but I'm not too fussed." He sunk onto the floor as well, using the girls' crouched position to anchor himself on top of her, forcing himself between her legs.

Franchesca screamed, frightened. And only hoped that her stalker wasn't too far away to hear her cry for help. But he did not come.

She kept turning her face away from his horrid, sloppy lips, and hit his hands away from her body as soon as they got to close to either her breasts or between her legs.

His weight suddenly disappeared, and the raven haired girl didn't realise she was hyperventilating until the assassin pulled her onto her feet, his arm remaining around her waist for support. "Calm down." Altair stated, "Breathe slowly and you'll be fine."

She didn't care about her pride at that moment, she threw her arms around the Master Assassin's form without remorse. And she unashamedly cried into the front of his robes for a few seconds before he pulled himself away from her, and took her by the arm to lead her safely back to the mansion.

Franchesca changed her mind about the arrogant assassin, a part of her actually liked him now. He had saved her numerous times, but she was never as grateful to him as she was right at that moment. She had _hugged _him for crying out loud! Actually _hugged_ him.

For a moment she was glad Cameron wasn't in Jerusalem, because she would have been teased to no end.

She wanted to thank the assassin for rescuing her, but couldn't get over her pride of 'I can do everything myself' to say the words. Besides, he hadn't saved her life so she didn't owe him that…he had saved her virginity.

Franchesca flushed scarlet.

"Thank you." She stated as they crossed the courtyard towards the mansion. She felt his eyes on her, regarding her appreciative tone as sincere.

He didn't respond, but she knew he had acknowledged her all the same.

As they stepped into the mansion, Franchesca made her way towards the stairs leading towards her bedroom. She was tired, and drained from her short rush of adrenaline.

She donned her clothes into a pile before washing and dressing into her night clothes and making her way towards the armchair beside the fireplace.

The raven haired girl eyed the book given to her by the old Rafik, and picked it up in her delicate hands. Examining the plain cover disinterestedly, Franchesca tossed it back on the table beside her with a groan. The Rafik wanted her to read the damned thing for their next lesson, which was in the morning…but the raven haired girl couldn't be bothered.

Longingly, she looked out of the window and sighed. If she were still in Damascus she would be running across the rooftops! But here…she shivered in disgust. Here she didn't feel safe. Despite knowing that there were many Assassin's around to help her, Franchesca didn't want the same scenario as with that dunk man. If Altair had been a little later she didn't know what could have happened!

There wasn't much for the raven haired girl to do besides read that damn homework!

Franchesca got up from the armchair and groaned in boredom before throwing herself face down upon her bed.

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the canopy of dark velvet above, sighing. Eventually, she fell into a deep slumber, and awoke the next morning to the sun poking through the clouds.

Grumpily, she threw her nightclothes onto the pile of laundry from the day before and freshened herself up with a damp cloth before pulling on a deep purple dress. Franchesca ran a comb through her long, dark hair before plaiting it over her left shoulder.

Then, she picked up the book and ran to the balcony to thrust it into the bushes far below her.

She turned, and smoothed down her dress before leaving her chambers barefoot, as she headed towards the library for her lesson.

It felt like she had been waiting for an hour before the Rafik finally graced her with his presence. And when he did, Franchesca looked up at him sheepishly as he held out towards her, the book she had flung out of the window.

"You should thank Altair." He stated, placing it on the table in front of her. "You can't read it if it is lost."

The raven haired girl bit her lip as her face flushed scarlet with embarrassment. Perhaps she didn't think so highly of the Master Assassin that much anymore…

"Now, I want you to read it to me." He stated as he took a seat beside her.

Franchesca sighed as she picked up the book and opened it up to the first page, her face scrunched up at the words, and she couldn't tell if the letters before her were the ones she thought they were, or other ones. "I can't read it." She stated, defeatedly donning the book onto the table.

The Rafik sighed and picked it up, "Yes, you can." He stated, "If you try, you will succeed-"

"-But I have tried!" She exclaimed, running a hand through her hair.

He raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief, "Yes." He stated, "You tried your aim off the balcony and into the bushes. And because you tried, you succeeded."

The raven haired girl sighed before picking up the book once more.

**A/N: Thank you for all the support for this story :) I hope everyone is enjoying it, please let me know and review xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Franchesca dragged her feet along the dirt road back from the town. She had been tired from her lessons that morning, and had only gone into the town for two reasons. For one, it was very boring in the mansion with nothing to do but try and read or get in the way, and two…she desperately wanted to see the charming man in the sapphire cloak!

In one hand, Franchesca held the hem of her dress up from the dirt, and in her other hand she held a pair of her flat shoes, the dirt road was warm on her feet, but the pool blood she had stepped in easily cooled her down.

She halted, and it felt as though her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach, and her stomach flew into her mouth.

Franchesca wiggled her toes to see if she wasn't imagining it, but upon glancing down and seeing her feet stained with the horrible crimson liquid, she bit back a scream and stumbled backwards as nausea settled in.

Leaning up against the brick debris on the side of the road was a once-white figure. The assassin had obviously been attacked by someone, a few guards perhaps, or maybe a Templar?

"Demetri…" Franchesca jumped when the injured man aloud, and her heart began to race. "Get Demetri…"

She nodded, but wasn't sure if the assassin had been looking at her or not. The raven haired girl wasted no more time hanging around, and began to run down the dirt road as fast as she could!

Her bloodied feet squeaked as she slid across the wooden floorboards of the mansion, and as she managed to catch her breath back a little she opened her mouth, but stopped. She didn't know what to shout. Did she call him father, or Demetri? Franchesca bit her lip and called for the only other name she knew.

"Altair!" The obvious panic in her tone alerted quite a few white robed men, two peered their heads around the side of the library door as Demetri and the called assassin stepped out of the main study.

"Franchesca?" Demetri questioned worriedly, eyeing the blood on his floor. "Are you injured?" He started towards her upon spotting the hem of her dress caked in blood, and her feet crimson.

She shook her head, breathless and gestured towards the door, "There's a dying man on the road!"

"And this bothers me how?" Altair asked, crossing his arms.

"He's wearing white robes, I think he might be an assassin."

Demetri made his way towards the door, "Raan did not return last night, and Cameron was due to return also. It might be one of them. I will go and see if there is anything that can be done to help."

Franchesca went to follow her father, but stopped in her tracks once the Master Assassin behind her grasped her upper arm. "You will stay here." Altair stated, turning her around to face the stairs and giving her a not-so-gentle shove in that direction.

"But if-"

"-Altair is right, Franchesca." Demetri stated, beckoning for two of the other white hooded men to scout the area. "It might not be safe, you need to return to your room for now. You may leave as soon as I am satisfied everything is as it should be."

She couldn't argue with him, not when he had made himself clear.

But what was she going to do? It was beginning to get dark, but she wasn't tired enough to sleep. The streets were scary, so she couldn't go out like she usually would in Damascus…

If Madam Gwen hadn't tried to use her in place of her mother what would Franchesca be doing now? Would she still have left Damascus?

The raven haired girl sighed before washing her feet. She tried not to look, knowing she would either faint or vomit at the sight of the blood. Was it her brothers?

As soon as they were done, she picked up the book her Tutor had given her and, without thinking or looking, threw it out of the window again.

"Franchesca."

Slightly startled by the voice, she sheepishly made her way towards the balcony and peered over the edge. Immediately she felt guilty, for her Tutor had been standing out of the grass and the book (as he was rubbing the side of his head) had hit his left temple.

"If you do not do your homework, you will not learn to read or write."

"I'm sorry." She hung her head in shame.

"If you're really sorry, you may come down and do another lesson before it gets dark?"

Perhaps she wasn't _that_ sorry. But she didn't want to upset the man further. "Of course," She stated, "I'll be right down."

Angry at herself, she left her chambers as slowly as possible, but stomped down the stairs heavily. She stared down at her feet as she descended the stairs, so only noticed the Assassin standing before her when she almost walked right into him.

"Do you mind?" Altair snapped, causing the raven haired girl to jump back in fright.

"What?" She replied with almost the same amount of bite in her tone.

He raised an eyebrow at her, but she wouldn't have been able to tell as (like always) he was wearing his hood. "Watch your tone, woman." He ordered, "Else I'll have your father put you through lessons of manner."

She crossed her arms over her chest, and glared up at him, "What?" She asked, her tone softer.

"You're banging around like a galloping horse; you should be seen and not heard."

Slightly offended at his referencing, she glided around him on the wooden floorboards before making her way towards the front door.

"And where do you think you're going?" He demanded, turning his head to look at her from over his shoulder.

"To a lesson." She replied.

"I thought you'd already had your class today?"

Franchesca sighed, "I threw my book away again, and hit him in the side of the head." She thought she caught a glimpse of amusement cross the visible features of the usually stoic and emotionless assassin, but they were gone before she could do a double take.

"If you do not like them so much, then why do you give yourself chance to be punished with them?"

She couldn't deny that he had a point, but she would not dwell on it too much, "I believe the actions done, makes the punishment worth receiving."

"If the punishment fits the crime, make sure you don't get too carried away." He warned. And with that, he ascended the stairs and disappeared from her sight.

Franchesca sighed as she continued out into the courtyard to meet her tutor for the second time that day.

But she didn't get very far, as her father and the other two Assassin's returned, leading a horse with the injured man resting upon its back. But what confused her was the fact that it was Cameron's horse they were leading. Franchesca didn't think her brother would ever be that badly wounded!

Then a feeling of dread washed over her. The dying man was her brother? Or had he returned safe and sound and they were just borrowing his horse? Someone stepped into the courtyard after her, and she assumed it to have been Altair. He must have seen them arriving from his window, and came down to meet them.

"Is that Cameron?" She asked, turning her head to the left to look at him.

"I don't know." He replied honestly, holding his arm out to tell her to remain where she was as he began to trek across the cobblestones.

She waited impatiently for the Master Assassin to return, and once he did, he took her by the arm. "You are not to disturb them." Altair stated, before she could run inside. "He is badly wounded, and needs rest." She hadn't realised that he had led Cameron's horse towards her until he began leading the mare towards the stables, pulling Franchesca along with him. "Tend to his horse, that will keep you busy long enough."

"I haven't done this before." She stated in reference to the mare, "I'd be more help to-"

"-No." Altair glanced towards the raven haired girl when he knew she would suggested going to see Cameron. He turned towards the horse to make sure that the mare wasn't injured herself.

The Master Assassin took a double take, however, when she suddenly grasped hold of his forearm. "He will be alright, won't he?"

"He is a strong assassin." Was all Altair stated, his amber eyes looking away from the innocent green ones of the female. He pried his arm from the girls grip so that he could lead the horse into her paddock, but as he turned around however, he watched as Franchesca ran across the courtyard. He would have chased after her, except she wasn't heading towards the house, she was heading towards the town.

Which gave her about an hour's headstart before he went looking for her. Which he did after he had tended to the mare, but he couldn't find the raven haired girl anywhere. He'd even checked in every roof garden he happened to stumble across, and each brothel as an added precaution.

An emotion he hadn't felt in a very long time overcame him. He remembered it as panic. Demetri was going to kill him! And Cameron would probably try and help the older man, despite his injuries.

Altair stood up, and scooted towards the edge of the roof. Upon spotting a pile of hay far beneath him, he executed a perfect Leap of Faith.

Rolling out from the haystack, he made his way towards the only other place he hadn't looked.

The Bureau.

He doubted very much that she would go there, but she had met Malik before. Although he had been quite rude towards Franchesca upon their first meeting, Altair knew the Dai was gentle and kind-hearted when it came to women in distress.

Also because the Dai wouldn't be able to explain to Demetri why he had turned away his long-lost daughter.

As the eagle swaggered through the streets, he did glance down alley ways, just in case another episode from the previous night had happened.

What would he do if the girl was being raped? Of course, he would kill the bastard, but Demetri's words replayed themselves in his head, _if a single hair on her head is harmed, I will hold you responsible. _The girls' virginity was worth a lot more than a strand of hair!

He found himself running towards the Bureau, but instead of hesitating outside like he would usually do, he jumped straight in and rounded the corner. Stopping suddenly when he stepped into the room which only one other person was occupying.

There was a moment where the air seemed to stand still, as both males looked at one another.

Altair was the first to break eye contact from his once-best friend and towards the many maps rolled up on the shelves, "Malik, have you seen Demetri's daughter today?"

"No." The Rafik replied, turning away from the assassin to resume his work.

"Not once?" He pressed for more than a one word answer, "She's disappeared."

Malik put down his quill and looked up at the Master Assassin, "No." He repeated. Altair growled, starting to get really frustrated with the Dai. Malik sighed and rolled his eyes, "She came by to pick up a map."

"Did she say where-"

"-No."

Altair, a little annoyed at the interruption, nodded his head once towards the Dai for the small amount of information before scaling the wall and stepping out into the darkening town.

Where _was_ the bloody girl?

A thought then came to Altair, and he glanced towards the Rich District. Could she have bumped into the Duke's son?

He took off across the rooftops, trying to get to the mansion before it became too late in the evening. He didn't want to explain to Demetri why his daughter was staying over at the Duke's that night, nor did he want the possibility of the Duke's son walking Franchesca home and finding out that she lived amongst the Brotherhood of Assassins!

He stopped on the rooftop opposite the mansion, just in time to see the raven haired girl stepping outside the front door, a couple of yellow flowers in her hand.

"Thank you," She stated, smiling up at the Duke's son. "But I can manage the walk, my guide is waiting for me somewhere."

"Only if you are sure?" Dominic questioned, reaching for his cloak all the same.

She nodded her head, and couldn't help the blush that swept across her fair features when the Duke's son brushed his lips across the back of her hand.

"I hope to stumble across you again, Franchesca."

She smiled in return, said a quick goodbye and turned to leave. Trying not to make it obvious that she was looking around the streets worriedly. Dominic remained standing by the door until she was out of sight, and only when the door was closed, did Altair turn to follow the raven haired girl.

Upon spotting a group of guards up ahead, Altair descended a stack of crates, gently took Franchesca by the arm to lead her down an alleyway as a shortcut through to the Middle District.

"I've been looking everywhere for you." He growled. "How long were you there for?"

After failing to shrug the Assassin off of her arm, she sighed, "He found me in the town, I was only with him for an hour or two."

"What happened?" He asked.

She shrugged, "We spoke with his father. I think I saw that artefact."

Altair looked over at her, "You didn't ask about it, did you?"

"Not out of the blue," She replied. "I do think you know, Altair. I'm not stupid!" She rolled her eyes, "It was this golden globe thing, not that big, but it was set on a cushion in the centre of the room. I assumed that was it seeing as it was the main object on show."

"What did you ask him about it?"

"Not much." She replied, "I tried to sound as though I was just being polite, not really that interested. He said a friend had found it, and he purchased it off of him."

"Robert De Sable."

"He didn't say who his friend was, but he didn't really want to talk about it that much. Something was really off about him. Quite frightening, actually, he wouldn't stop looking at me." She shivered. It was almost as though the man had been undressing her with his eyes!

Altair nodded, "I will inform Demetri of what has happened." He then glanced at her from the corner of his eye, "Anything else?" He asked, "Are you hurt?"

She frowned, confused as to why _he_ appeared to be concerned about her well-being, "No, why?"

The Master Assassin said no more. He hated himself for asking her, but he just wanted to make sure that he was safe from Demetri's wrath for the moment, or at least give himself some warning of a Target hanging over his head.

"Do you think Cameron's alright?" Franchesca asked once they reached the road she had found him lying upon that very morning.

"Malik didn't say anything."

"He doesn't normally talk to you anyway though, does he?"

"Hold your tongue!" The Master Assassin snapped to attention, "Who told you that?" She didn't need to respond to his question, he had already known the answer, "If Cameron isn't already dead, then he will be when I return."

As soon as the mansion came into view, Franchesca ran towards the front door. "Cameron?" She called, making her way up the stairs. She passed Demetri on the way, and stopped before him, "How is Cameron?" She asked gently.

"We do not know yet." He responded, "I'm surprised the wound he was given didn't kill him right away. The doctor is with him now, and will be for the rest of the evening..." '_Just in case he dies' w_as the obvious end to his sentence.

Franchesca nodded her head, "I'm not allowed to see him, am I?" She asked.

Demetri shook his head, "He's sleeping at the moment. He needs to rest."

"Can I see him in the morning?"

Demetri sighed, "Depending on what the doctor says, and how Cameron feels. For now though, I suggested you go to your chambers, before you know it, you will wake and it will be tomorrow."

She nodded her head, and turned to the door to the room beside the wounded Assassin. She glanced back towards Altair and her father, but they were already discussing something in _very _quiet tones. Franchesca had the conclusion that it was about that artefact the Duke had hold of in his mansion.

Or it was about the Duke himself.

She crossed the threshold into her room quickly, to leave the Assassin's to their secretive conversation so that she could sleep. Franchesca hoped that Cameron would live through the night so that she could see him the next morning!

**A/N: Here's the next chapter :) I hope you all enjoyed it, please review! xx**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Cameron was no better the next morning. In fact, he was in and out of sleep for the entirety of the following day! The maids took it in shifts to tend to him, helping him drink slow sips of water, and eat small mouthfuls of soup. The blonde gasped for breath each time he was aided to sit up, and he sweat horribly day and night from his high fever.

For the next few days, Franchesca would poke her head around the door to see if he was still alive, before heading downstairs for her lessons. And she would actually _try _as well! The old Rafik was very impressed with her progress, but still disappointed that she would not do her homework.

So he had taken another option to get her to do it. Which worked wonders!

"I will give you a day of rest," He began. "If you read the workbook, and practice your handwriting and spelling."

"But it's boring!" She protested, "And I do enough of it during the day!"

He raised an eyebrow at her, "You have a choice." He stated, "You can either have an extra hour of lessons-"

"-No!" She pleaded immediately, "I'd rather do the other option."

"You haven't even heard what I have to say."

She shook her head, "I lose patience enough as it is with one hour!"

He smiled and nodded his head as he rose to his feet, "Then it is settled." He stated, "You will sit in here and do your homework, with Altair as company."

She looked absolutely mortified. But before she could protest, the Rafik had already left the room. "I doubt Altair will be very happy about this."

But he didn't mind at all! Franchesca didn't realise that the Master Assassin would prefer to sit in a room in silence than chase her around the streets of Jerusalem. At least she wasn't getting into trouble and he knew exactly where she was this way!

For the first ten minutes she silently protested. Refusing to read the workbook until he left her in peace.

"The sooner you do it, the sooner we can go." He stated, glancing up from his hidden blade as he polished the fine steel.

She glared at him and then sighed, knowing that he was right.

"And you cannot leave until you do." He added, "Even if it gets late."

"Wouldn't you prefer to do something more…_challenging_ with your time?" She asked icily.

Altair didn't look up as he replied, "Merely having you in my presence is a challenge in itself."

The raven haired girl opened the book and began to try and read the words written out on the binded parchment. But when she believed the Master Assassin to have focused all his attention on the hidden blade before him, she dropped the book and ran to the window – knowing that the door had been locked by the Master Assassin upon entry.

But she wasn't quick enough. In fact, she barely made it across the carpet! Altair dumped her back in her seat seconds after she had told him where to go.

"Your language is atrocious." He commented, "Where did you learn that?"

She ignored him as he pushed her chair under the table, the wooden arms effectively blocking her in and caging her. Franchesca sighed and grimaced when the handbook was thrown on the table in front of her once more.

Admitting defeat just this once, Franchesca read for fifty minutes. "I'm done now." She stated, yawning. "So I'm leaving."

He frowned at her, placed his booted foot on the back of the chair to stop her from getting up and inspected the book. Upon finding the pages creased, he came to the conclusion that she did not cut time short by missing a page. "Fine." He handed her the key to the door, but before she could grab it, he held it out of her reach, "Tell me," He began. "What was the book about?" He asked, skimming his eyes over the pages.

"Does it matter?" She exclaimed. He merely waited expectantly for her reply. "I didn't know what the word said, but it came up quite a lot so I assume it was that."

"Which one?" He handed her the book, to which she rushed to look for the word and point out. "_'Knives'_." He informed her, closing the book and placing it down on the table.

He moved across the room to unlock the door and let the girl out and once they had both stepped out of the room, he closed the door behind them.

"If you wish to go into the town," He began turning to watch her retreat towards the stairs, "You may go now."

"On my own?" She grimaced slightly, remembering that it was this dark when that man had almost raped her.

"I will be around somewhere." He reassured her, waiting by the main door of the mansion for her reply.

She stood at the foot of the stairs, indecisive for a moment or two before looking up at the room, "I just want to look in on Cameron first."

He merely turned to lean against the wall as his reply. It wasn't uncommon for the raven haired girl to check up on her brother each morning and afternoon, she wasn't a nuisance to him or the maids so she was allowed to come and go as she pleased.

Within two minutes, she returned to the candlelit hallway, her cloak wrapped around her shoulders and her hood pulled up over her head.

They walked in a silence that was unusually _comfortable_ for a change. But as they reached the town, Franchesca stopped when she felt the presence of the Assassin leave her. He didn't need to say anything and she didn't need to hear anything, she just knew.

Everything went cold. She shivered involuntarily as she walked through the town, keeping to the main streets rather than through the alleys where she knew evil lurked within, waiting for a pretty virgin like herself to fall into their horrible clutches.

She wanted to go back to the mansion. She didn't even care if she bumped into the Duke's son, or not. Already, she just wanted to go back.

There was a resounding crash from within an alleyway behind her, which propelled the raven haired girl into a run. She didn't care where she was going as long as no one touched her, saw her, or even so much as looked at her. She saw a flash of white robes and knew it was Altair merely from the way that he held himself with such authority and pride. She ran after him, and came to a stop when the Master Assassin appeared to have vanished.

The clanking of feet alerted her to the fact that he was not alone, and someone grabbed hold of her by the arm.

Franchesca's scream was cut short when a gloved hand covered her mouth, and she was pulled into a small alleyway into someone's chest. "Be quiet!" Altair whispered, slowly uncovering her mouth with his hand.

As the clanging of armour grew louder and louder, Franchesca found herself running down the alleyway as fast as she could, the quiet yet quick thuds behind her alerted her to the fact that Altair was following close behind.

When the clanging of armour and weapons appeared in front of them as well as behind, Franchesca felt Altair wrap his arm around her waist, before she knew it they had plunged into a nearby hay cart.

A warm blush coloured her cheeks when she realised what the weight against her left side was. Altair's arm was still at her waist; probably only there to keep her laid flat, and his cool breath brushed softly against her neck.

She stiffened when she realised that one of his legs was between hers and his hand was on her breast, and she immediately tensed. Altair, feeling this, removed his hand from her breast to place it upon her stomach – to ensure she didn't get cold feet and give away their hiding place.

"Where did the Assassin go?"

"And was that his accomplice?"

Franchesca frowned, she was no accomplice in the arrogant assassin's crime! How dare they think she was involved in his acts of criminality!

"There was an accomplice?"

"Definitely female." A gruff voice stated, "I can spot a woman when I see one, cloaked or not."

"You spend too much time at _The Violet Maiden_!" One of the guards laughed, "Madam Irene knows you on a first-name basis!"

"So do a few of her girls!"

The men all cheered for their fellow, which was followed up by boisterous laughter. "But they also know Dominic as well!"

"He hasn't been visiting for a while now, I hear."

"I heard that he introduced his father to a rather beautiful young lady."

The soldiers were silent for a moment before another decided to speak, "You don't think…"

"Think what?"

"That's definitely not true!"

"What?"

The one who made the first statement cleared his throat, "There's been word from Damascus," He began, "About an assassin's daughter."

"I thought that scum only raised sons?" Another questioned, "And killed any daughters."

"I have no idea."

"Anyway!" The first exclaimed, "The point is, what if this girl is a spy?" The group fell silent, "What if she's after the artefact of the Duke's?"

"She's probably just a common whore!" Someone else blurted after a long moment of silence.

"There's only one way to find out," The first stated, "If she's a whore, she'll sit on anyone's lap."

"I don't think she's a whore." Another stated, clearing his throat. "Apparently she's a diamond."

"I've seen her." Someone else stated, "I was on main duty, guarding the front entrance when Dominic brought her to meet his father."

"What was she like?" Someone else asked.

"A true beauty I must say…" Franchesca could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke. "She would be a fine bride for my own son, or even a good whore on my lap, her virginity would be a good trophy."

The raven haired girl felt sick, and embarrassed! But she didn't have to suffer for much longer as the conversation came back to Altair, and the guards became bored with their 'search' for the Master Assassin.

Once they were gone, Altair pushed himself up and jumped out of the cart; giving Franchesca a hand out as well.

"Why did you follow me?" He asked, wanting to sound more annoyed than he actually did.

"I don't want to be out anymore."

"What's happened?" He asked.

She shook her head, "I just want to go back to the mansion."

"Do you not want to run into your boyfriend?"

"I just want to go." She bit her lip, her eyes appearing teary.

Altair sighed and looked down the alleyway, "It'll probably be safer to go back anyway, especially now they're looking out for a dark hooded _accomplice_." He all but growled the word as he turned on his heel.

She made sure to walk (or jog) beside him whilst they made their way back, and she almost jumped at each sound she heard. As soon as they reached the courtyard of the mansion, Franchesca ran across the cobblestones, and straight up the stairs to her room.

Altair stepped through the front door to see Demetri standing just outside his office. "Altair," He began, his tone serious. "A word."

Altair found himself hesitating. Actually _hesitating_! But he made himself step into the older assassin's personal study, and follow him over towards the desk and take a seat before him. "If this is about what happened the other night-"

Demetri held up his hand to cut him off, "-I regret to do this, but I feel as though I must." He handed Altair a scroll. "Shof managed to pickpocket Dominic. I _assume_ the letter is to Franchesca."

"He wishes to marry her." Altair stated as his amber eyes skimmed over the words.

Demetri nodded his head, "And I said beforehand that I did not want this to happen, Altair."

"I have done my best, Demetri. I cannot explain this man's sudden infatuation with her, but I have reason to believe that his father, the Duke, may have played a part in this."

Demetri tilted his head to the side, "And your reasoning is?"

"Whilst hiding, the guards began speaking about the Duke and Dominic…and Franchesca." Altair stated, "They have somehow heard about her life from Damas, and have heard the story about an Assassin's daughter."

"Does Franchesca know?"

"Franchesca was hiding with me."

Demetri sighed, "Then my plan may have failed, she may be uneasy about going back to Dominic."

"You may be surprised, Demetri-"

"-But since that man tried to force her on his lap, she hates being in the town!"

Altair was silent for a moment, in thought, "Only when it is night." He explained, "Perhaps you should take her into the town in the morning?"

Demetri scoffed, "If I see that Templar scum, I will kill him then and there, Altair. His son included."

Altair had forgotten about Demetri's on-going war with the Duke, and immediately nodded his head. "It is my task, I know." The Master Assassin stated, "But she may feel safer being under your wing than mine. There is the element of trust, Demetri. You know how she is with Cameron, she will be the same with you."

The older Assassin knew Altair's problem with communication. He knew he hated his task. He even knew Altair had a problem with women who were not there to simply lay beneath him with their legs open.

Demetri's eyes looked over the letter once more before nodding his head, "Perhaps you're right." He stated, putting the parchment to the side, "Perhaps the piece of scum will ask me for her hand, and not elope with her. It's obvious that was his plan." His green eyes looked up at the Assassin still sitting across from him, "But there will not be a wedding." He stated, "I do not want her blood on his sheets. This all ends within the month."

Altair nodded, "What will you have me do?"

"Keep her out of trouble, do not let that man get his hands on her, or his scum of a father." Demetri looked sternly up at the Master Assassin, "And if she's killed, Altair, I would not want Al Mualim to find out that his favourite has been slain by my hand."

The threat was there. The threat was clear. And even his task was clear: Do not let Franchesca marry, lose her virginity, or die.

The man really didn't ask for much.

Altair nodded his head, not really sure when Demetri could give him threats and get away with them, or even give him an order. But he knew that the man was second to Al Mualim, even if he himself was the favourite.

"You know I take my tasks seriously, Demetri. I'll see that no harm comes to her."

All thoughts of Kadar returned to him in that moment, and he saw a flicker of that same memory in Demetri's eye. "You're a changed man since Solomon's Temple, Altair. Malik's a fool not to see that."

They then went their separate ways, Demetri back to his desk, and Altair up to his room. Of course, he didn't really get a straight answer from the older Assassin about taking the raven haired girl into the town the next morning, but he knew Demetri would be thinking about it for the remainder of the evening.

For now though, it wasn't Altair's time to think. It was his time to rest for the next day. The market would be busy, it always was on a Saturday, and he knew it would be the perfect opportunity to gather some more intel on the Duke's son, especially when the guards were better for gossip than the women of the brothels.

That reminded him. _The Violet Maiden. _The guards had said that Dominic used to go there frequently, but had stopped visiting. He would check there first thing in the morning, and then proceed to entertain the guards with his vanishing appearance, and listen to their wordy tongues.

* * *

><p>Franchesca thought about what the guards had said about Dominic. <em>'Perhaps he stopped going there because he met me?' <em>She thought. The raven haired girl quickly shook the thought away, Madam Gwen always used to say that 'you could never trust a man who turns down a quick ride in any woman's bed; whore, married, or single. It brings forth suspicion that they are not what they seem.'

Did that mean Dominic fancied other men?

She frowned and shook the thought away. Perhaps it _was _because he had met her. Maybe he had only stopped going to the brothel because he wanted to be faithful? But they weren't even together so that thought was just complete nonsense! Unless he wanted to be _with_ her.

Altair's words then popped into her brain, _'Don't you want to see your boyfriend?' _And he was being unusually tolerable with her as well, always asking her if she wanted to go into the town, teasing her with the thought of running into the Duke's son. Was this his goal? Was he supposed to be leading her into the awaiting arms of a Templar?

She got up from her chair, and smoothed down her dress before leaving the privacy of her room. She would speak to her father about this. Could Altair be a Templar spy?

As she descended the stairs, Franchesca passed Altair and unconsciously quickened her pace until she came to a stop outside Demetri's study. She knocked lightly on the door, and entered when she heard a response from inside. Franchesca closed the door behind her and slowly made her way towards the desk in front of her father. She looked uneasy, and he gestured for her to take a seat before him. The cushion was still warm, someone had been sitting here not too long before her.

"Is something the matter?" He asked, putting his quill down.

"I don't know." She replied, honestly. "Well, it might be, I'm not sure."

Demetri frowned before placing his hands together, on top of his desk, giving the raven haired girl his full attention. "Well, what does it entail?"

"Altair." She replied.

He was all ears, "Has he hurt you?" He asked immediately.

"No!" She was quick to deny his statement, and sat up straighter as she let the accusation slip from between her lips. "I think he might be a spy."

Demetri tried to keep a straight face. The accusation was so weak that he couldn't help the small chuckle which escaped him, "What makes you say this?"

She fidgeted in her seat, "I don't know." She replied, "Just how he's always leading me towards the Duke's son. And he calls him my boyfriend, and he tolerates me. He asks me if I want to go into the town, and always suggests that there is a possibility of seeing Dominic. He's leading me too him."

Demetri was surprised at the girl's intelligence. Of course, her accusation was so obviously wrong, but she was close to working out why she was being led towards the Duke's son. No, Altair was not a Templar spy. But he was trying to get Franchesca to be one for the Assassins.

"You're close." He stated, "But Altair is not a Templar spy."

Franchesca frowned, "I don't understand..."

Demetri cleared his throat, "The Duke has something that we want." He explained, "Which I had been given the task to collect. But unfortunately, the Duke's son has the responsibility of guarding it-"

"-You're using me."

Demetri sighed, "It has come into my favour that you have taken an interest in Dominic, and he in you."

"You're not intentionally using me?" She stated, questionably, looking him right in the eye. "This just so happens to be a coincidence?"

"Which we are using to our advantage."

She didn't look convinced, but nodded all the same, "So what would you do if he proposed to me?"

"If Dominic proposed to you, the answer would be your decision." Demetri replied without hesitation, "Although I do hope you'd think it through, Franchesca. Of course, you would be caught between a war which has been going on for centuries; being married to a Templar and being the daughter of an Assassin."

"I wouldn't marry him. I would deny his offer."

Demetri raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised at her response, "Why not? He is a very wealthy man, Franchesca. You would do well to marry a man with that much power."

"I know." She stated, looking down at her lap. "I just haven't worked him out yet."

Again, Demetri frowned, "What do you mean?"

She shrugged, very unladylike, "I don't know." She replied, "I just haven't decided whether I trust him yet. There's something about him..." She trailed off, swallowing. "That I don't like."

Her words peaked his interest, and he rested his chin on his hands; elbows rested upon the table to give his daughter his undivided attention, "How so?"

Again, she shrugged, "I'm not sure. I just know when I can trust someone. Like Madam Gwen, I never fully trusted her. She was too nice."

"And Dominic?"

"Same as Madam Gwen; he's too nice." She replied, "But that could just be how he is. But with a father who is a complete asshole-" She covered her mouth as the word slipped out, her eyes widened as she waited for a lecture about her language being 'to unladylike'. But it never came, a small smile graced Demetri's face and he gestured for her to continue. "It just seems weird for them to both be completely different from one another. They have nothing in common. And they don't look alike either."

Demetri cleared his throat and leant back in his chair, watching his daughter with a very calculating gaze, "What do you think?" He asked.

"Well, of course they are actually related. The Duke doesn't seem the type to adopt someone else's child. But I don't think he's his son. Nephew, maybe. But not his son."

"Thank you." Demetri stated after a moment of silence. "I'll look into this when I take you into town tomorrow morning."

"You're going to take me into town?"

"Yes," He stated, picking up his quill once more. "Cameron needs some herbs for his wounds, and I would like to meet Dominic, if we should be so lucky to run into him."

**A/N: From here on out, every little detail could be a potential plot twist ;) keep your eyes oot! Anyways, I've had very little feedback for this story and this worries me, lol...do you love it/hate it? Please drop me a review to let me know what you think xx**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Franchesca was surprised to see her father not dressed in his usual Assassin garbs that next morning. Instead, he was dressed in the standard clothes for a man in the middle district. But the raven haired girl knew he would have a knife or some other sort of blade on him somewhere.

"Cameron's awake." He stated as the raven haired girl stepped into his office that morning, wearing the green dress (much to Demetri's surprise). "If you wish to go and see him before we leave."

She smiled and ran out of the office, ascending the stairs quickly in her rush to get to the top. But she stopped when she reached his door, composed herself, and knocked quietly on the wood. Upon hearing her brother's voice granting her entry, she stepped inside and smiled when she saw his figure sitting up in bed.

She felt tears welling up in her eyes, but fought hard not to let them fall, "You're still alive then."

He laughed lightly, "You can't be rid of me that easily, Chesca."

The raven haired girl made her way to his side, and sat on the chair next to the bed which the maid had previously been sitting in for the past week.

He frowned, "I could have sworn you don't have lessons at the weekend."

"I don't." She replied.

"Then why are you wearing a dress?" He gasped, "You're trying to impress someone." A smirk made its way onto his tired features, "I always thought you had a thing for Altair-ouch!"

The raven haired girl thumped his arm, but immediately apologised in case she had opened any of his stitches.

"Do you want me to die?" He exclaimed, his question falling on deaf ears as Franchesca couldn't help but laugh. "Why are you wearing a dress?"

She shrugged, "Father's taking me into town."

The blonde looked surprised, "How did you persuade him to get out of the mansion?"

"I didn't." She replied honestly, "He offered to take me."

"I'll talk to him later." Cameron stated, picking at the bandages across his stomach. "He can't take my responsibility away from me. Aside from Altair, I'm the only one allowed to escort you through Jerusalem."

It was then that the man of the mansion entered the room, looking at both his children with a raised eyebrow, "Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked his son.

Cameron shrugged, "Nothing." He responded, "Just that you're taking over my role of escorting Franchesca into the town."

Demetri rolled his eyes, "It's only for today, Cameron." He reassured his son. "As soon as I meet the young man who appears to have become infatuated with your sister, and on the condition that you are well enough to get out of bed, you may return to your protective responsibility. For now though, I'm sure Franchesca has the advantage of protecting herself more than you can protect her."

Cameron pulled a face, causing the raven haired girl to smile. "Alright," The blonde rolled his eyes, "You've made your point. Now go before I make a comment as to how powerless you look, father."

"I'll see you this evening if you'd like?" Franchesca asked, getting up from her chair.

Cameron smiled, "Of course."

"But you'll bring your reading book." Demetri stated, "Your tutor has told me that you do not do your homework."

"I have," She defended herself. "Ask Altair."

"Yes." Demetri replied as they left the blonde assassin's chambers, "I have, and he said that you tried to escape. The only way you will do your homework is if someone sits with you. You can read aloud to Cameron, and he can help you…unless you'd prefer to sit in a quiet room with Altair?"

She pulled a face, "I'll sit with Cameron."

Demetri nodded in acceptance, but couldn't help the small smile that broke out on his face, "If it is because you're still worried about his possible ties to the Templars, Franchesca, you needn't worry. Altair is as opposed to Templars as any other assassin-"

"-I know that now." She stated.

"Then what is the problem?"

"I just think he's arrogant." She mumbled shyly, but honestly. "And he's quite rude."

Demetri waved a hand, "That is his way with people." He didn't need to tell her it was because she was a woman who would not lie with him. "I'm sure you've noticed he is the same around Runam, Shof, and sometimes even Cameron."

"It's because I'm a woman, isn't it."

"Well…in a way, I suppose." Demetri replied honestly, "But – like I said – you needn't worry. He's there to make sure nothing happens to you, and if it does I can assure you I've already made him feel as though he will be held responsible."

Franchesca shook her head, thinking it quite funny how Altair had been threatened by her father.

They quickly stepped into the town, and already, Franchesca felt safe once more. Perhaps it was because she knew her father would not leave her side, or allow her to wander from his sight. But for some reason, she didn't want to run into Dominic. It was because she would feel slightly embarrassed introducing him to her father, who she barely knew herself.

"What if we do run into the Duke's son?" She asked quietly. "I'm sure Altair told you that we overheard the guards-"

"-Yes." He interrupted her. "We shall just leave out the part where you're from Damascus, and not long been in Jerusalem. We shall say that you've lived here since birth. That would be best."

They walked aimlessly throughout the market, not really bothering to look at anything. Well, Franchesca pretended to glance over at stalls, whilst feeling the presence of Demetri behind her. He had no interest in anything, merely walked along behind her as though he was her bodyguard; which in a sense he was.

Franchesca thought it almost strange that he ignored the herb stall, when he had specifically stated the night previous that he needed to get something for Cameron. It was as though they were only in the town for one purpose.

And that purpose was watching them from beside the fountain.

"Ah, I do believe we have found your gentleman friend." Demetri stated, placing his hand on the small of Franchesca's back and gesturing towards the fountain. "Do you want to introduce me?" He asked. _Or shall I introduce myself, _Franchesca knew was the end to his unfinished sentence.

She smiled before making her way towards the man in the sapphire blue cloak, "It is lovely to see you again." Dominic began as soon as she was within earshot.

"Yes, and you." She replied, coming to stop in front of him. "My father is over there," The raven haired girl stated, "Would you like to meet him?" She made herself sound as though she didn't mind either way, but secretly hoped that the meeting would not happen.

He smiled, "Yes, of course." He walked beside her as they approached Demetri, and Franchesca couldn't help but feel nervous as the assassin watched the Duke's son's movements with a hawk-like, calculating gaze as they introduced themselves.

"I have heard a lot about you." Demetri stated, shaking the sapphire cloaked man's hand. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"And you, Sir." Dominic nodded his head as he took the assassin's outstretched hand, and shook it pleasantly with his own. "I have wanted to meet you for a while, to tell you what a beautiful daughter you have raised."

Demetri smiled, a sly glint shone in his eyes, "Thank you," He replied. "I just wish my wife were here to be able to listen to your kind words." He turned to face the raven haired girl, "You wouldn't mind if this gentleman and I departed from your company, would you?"

Franchesca was startled slightly, but nodded her head all the same and faked a smile, "Of course."

"Would you like me to escort you anywhere?" Dominic asked, a concerned look upon his face.

"One of our guides is around," Demetri stated, his eyes quickly darting towards the rooftop to alert Franchesca to the fact that there was an assassin waiting to walk her back to the mansion. "He will continue the walk around the market with her, and return her home safe whenever she is ready."

Dominic smiled and nodded his head, before bowing and taking Franchesca's hand in his own, "It is always a pleasure to see you, Franchesca. I do hope to see you again soon." And with that, he and Demetri made their way along the cobblestoned road, and out of sight.

Franchesca's fake smile immediately fell from her face. What the hell was that? For the first time, she heard the booted feet before the assassin's voice.

"So you believed me to be a Templar spy?"

Slowly, she turned to look up at the amber eyed assassin, "I had to think of all possibilities." She replied, moving past him and towards the market once more.

"Even the most insane and repulsive ones." Altair snapped, catching up with her. "What is it?" He asked, taking note of her solemn expression.

"Nothing." The raven haired girl replied, glancing towards a tavern once she saw a sapphire blue cape disappear inside.

The rest of the walk back to the mansion was silent. But again, not at all uncomfortable. But when they were halfway along the dirt road towards the mansion, Altair stopped, and put his arm in front of the raven haired girl to halt her.

"What are you doing?" She asked. When she made to walk off once more, he grasped her wrist and pulled her to his side. Again, she went to ask him what was going on, but her eyes widened when his gloved hand clamped over her mouth. But not hard.

He was looking towards the trees, and she made sure she kept quiet. "Pull up your hood." He murmured, waiting until she had done so before he released her once more.

Then he carried on walking as if nothing had happened, but Franchesca couldn't help but notice that his hand kept itching towards the hilt of his blade. He was on alert. And she realised that he had asked her to pull up her hood in case they were Templars who would recognise her from Dominic's mansion. He took hold of her elbow, and led her along a different path. But confused her when it led them back towards the market.

"We're being followed." He murmured quietly, so that only she would be able to hear him. "Go down that alley, remove your cloak and go to the docks. I won't be long."

Before she could even blink, Altair had vanished.

For once, she did as she was told. But not wanting to rid herself of her cloak, she did the only thing she could do with it; stuff it up her dress. She made her way towards the docks, receiving admiring looks from other women and wishes that she shall have a healthy son, as she passed by.

As soon as she was at the docks, she slipped inside one of the cabins and hid behind a stack of wooden crates. It wasn't long until Altair found her, and when he did, he looked down at her fake stomach and sighed disappointedly.

"I wasn't going to get rid of it." She stated, rolling her eyes at him.

"Never get rid of a child!" Startled by the voice, not only did Franchesca almost leap towards the assassin, but his hand immediately flew towards the hilt of his blade. An old woman rushed forwards and took the girls hand between her own, "Yes…" She cooed, staring intently at Franchesca's palm. "You will have four sons, all of them strong like their father-" Franchesca tore her hand from the woman's grip, and the glint from Altair's silver blade caused the woman to make a move towards the entrance to the cabin.

Franchesca removed the cloak from under her dress and held it tightly to her chest. Whatever that woman had done had creeped her out a little bit. Frowning, Franchesca looked at her own palm with confusion, "What?"

Altair ignored the question and grasped the raven haired girl by her elbow, "Let's go. I managed to lose those who were following us and checked the path again, which is clear – for now. We must return before it gets dark."

* * *

><p>"Four?" Franchesca murmured to herself as she lay on her bed. Still staring at her palm in confusion. What was that woman on about? She would ask Cameron about it.<p>

For now though, she erased all thoughts of the woman from her mind and stood up from her bed to grab her homework book. She changed into a pair of her breeches and an old shirt before leaving the privacy of her chambers and crossing the corridor towards Cameron's.

Gently, she knocked on the door, and stepped inside once she heard his acknowledgement of her presence.

He smiled at her as she made her way towards the chair at the side of his bed, bringing her feet up to hug her knees to her chest as she sat down; tossing the book on the table in front of her and to the left of Cameron's bedside.

"What's wrong?" The blonde asked, frowning.

"Nothing," She replied, "I'm just confused." She told him about the stalkers in the woods, to returning to the market, the cloak going under her dress, all the way up until the incident with the old woman. "And she said I will have '_four sons, who will be as strong as their father_'. I don't understand how she would think that just by looking at my hand."

Cameron frowned, but nodded his head anyway, "She's one of _those_ women." He stated, "Some of them read cards, some read your palm. They're called 'Fortune Tellers' or something, I think. If they're found by the guards, they're killed for witchcraft."

Franchesca shivered, "But whatever she is; do you think she's right?"

Cameron shrugged, "Well, it sounded like she was referring to an Assassin when she said '_as strong as their father_', so I'm assuming you'll marry into the Brotherhood. That's what most Assassin's daughters do."

"But, the guards said that daughters were killed."

"That's nonsense." Cameron waved his hand and rolled his eyes, "Shof has a sister, who's actually getting married to Raan. But it's all arranged by their fathers." Cameron cleared his throat, "Father would probably marry you to Tas or Runam."

She wrinkled her nose, "Really?"

"But," He smirked, "I'd see you off to Altair."

She thumped him on the arm, hard. "I will leave you to your lonely misery if you start this insane romance story again."

He raised an eyebrow, "Did you say romance?" He teased, "I didn't say anything of the sort, Chesca, but now that you come to mention it-" She got to her feet "-Alright!" He laughed, "Sit down and open that book, and I'll leave it."

She did as she was told, and as she read through the thin paged book, Cameron listened and corrected her on any words she didn't pronounce properly. Once they were done, Franchesca couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her face. She was proud of herself for getting through it, and Cameron smiled as well, "You're doing well." He praised, "Soon you'll be writing your own novel."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, "I doubt it."

They sat in a comfortable silence for short moment before Cameron began to speak again, "Do you want to learn how to wield a sword?"

Her eyes raised to meet the ones of her brother, which mirrored her own, "What?"

He shrugged, "When I'm better, I can teach you if you want?"

Franchesca smiled, "I'd like that, thank you."

"Obviously we won't tell anyone other than father." He stated, "Altair will probably throw a fit. Tas and Shof wouldn't be up for the idea either, neither would anyone else I don't think. Except for maybe Malik."

"Which ones Malik?"

"The Dai, in the Bureau. You met him when you first arrived here. He doesn't like Altair. One arm?"

"Oh yes," Franchesca nodded her head in understanding. "And I asked why, I remember now."

Cameron nodded, "I'll ask him if we can visit one day. It will be somewhere no one will think to look. If he does happen to disagree then we'll have to be careful and use the stables."

"Use the stables to do what?" Demetri asked as he stepped into the room.

"I suggested teaching Chesca how to use a sword."

"Feel free." The older assassin stated, "Just be wary about when. The stables are used on a daily basis, so you'd have to monitor your time."

"I suggested the Bureau with Malik first." Cameron stated, clearing his throat.

Demetri shook his head, "More and more assassin are being sent to Jerusalem. No, the Bureau will be too busy. I suppose the stables will have to do; only when you're better though Cameron. Until the doctor says you are ready, you will have to wait." He turned to face his daughter then, "Dominic seems to be a nice young man," He began. "And he speaks very highly of you."

Franchesca smiled, but she didn't know what for. She wasn't exactly _pleased _but then again she wasn't unhappy either. "Okay." Was all she said, turning away from a father as she blushed a little in embarrassment? She wasn't sure why she blushed, but Demetri took it as a sign that his daughter was fond of the Duke's son.

"He asked me if he could court you." The raven haired girl looked up at him, giving her father her full attention. "I said _'haven't you been doing so already?' _To which he looked a little embarrassed. I do not think you have anything to worry about with him, Franchesca." The girl frowned a little at that – the tone her father had used signified that he could have been lying – he did seem very interested in what she had to say, when she accused Dominic of not being the Duke's son.

Franchesca looked to her brother suspiciously once Demetri vacated the room, "What's that look for?" Cameron asked with a frown.

"Nothing." The girl shook her head and grabbed her homework book. "I'm going to go to my room."

"What's wrong, Chesca?"

"I don't understand." She began, sighing. "I said to him that I did not believe Dominic was the Duke's son, that he was his nephew at the most – and he appeared to be really interested in what I had to say - almost as if I had made a valid point." She shook her head, "But now he's almost dismissing that, and almost…" She searched for the right word. "I feel that he is _encouraging _me to keep on seeing Dominic…and for that, I'm not sure that I want to. It makes me feel like there's some sort of underlying problem."

"So, you don't want to go out with him because…no one's telling you that you shouldn't?"

Franchesca shrugged, "It appears so, doesn't it? It's just that you're Assassins. Anytime that I go to do something, I get given an opinion…but with Dominic there isn't one."

"So…why not take it as a good sign?"

She shot her brother a suspicious look, "I think you're forgetting, Cameron, that he associates with Templars. That's what I'm getting at. He's associated with Templars, yet I'm pretty much being told that Dominic is alright."

"He's not a Templar himself, you know."

"But he's tightly knitted with them." She explained, "Isn't it dangerous anyway? Especially as the guards have heard about '_an assassin's daughter fleeing from Damascus and stepping into Jerusalem'_? They've seen me before, Cameron, and they suspect that I'm that girl. I _am _that girl! Shouldn't I stay away from Dominic because they might find out for real?"

"You're looking too much into this." He shook his head, "Listen to this, right. As assassins, we are to 'hide in plain sight'. That is one of the three tenants of the Creed. If you continue to see Dominic, then the guards will think less and less of you being an Assassin's daughter, whereas if you suddenly stop seeing him, it will rouse suspicion. Understand?"

"I suppose so." She replied after a moment or two of silence, "But I'm not fully convinced that there isn't something…you know…going on."

"I wouldn't worry about it for now," Cameron began, shifting his position so he was sitting up a little higher. "I'll talk to father later, if you want?"

She shook her head, "That's okay, thank you though. I'll just keep my eyes open, I'm sure to spot something eventually…that is…if there is anything I should be worrying about."

"If there was a problem, Chesca, Altair would step in."

"That's one of the problems though, Cameron." She stated, turning to look at him when she reached for the door handle. "If there wasn't anything to worry about, then why is he there in the first place?"

**A/N: For those who read my other Assassin's Creed story 'The Exception of Curiosity', there are two updates there as my way of apologising for the lack of updates. For this story however, there is a lot of hints in this chapter about upcoming plots. And I mean a _lot _of hints! And we will be seeing the palm reading lady from the docks again, (a plea from my best friend because she loves fortune tellers).**

**Please review and let me know what you think, why not have a guess at the hints? **


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

As Franchesca made her way down to the kitchen that next morning, she was thrilled to see that Cameron was up and about, sitting in the kitchen. "You're up!" She exclaimed.

The blonde turned to smile at her, "Yes," He nodded, "I was going to teach you some basic moves today - although I can't be an opponent just yet because I'm not fully healed." He explained, "I'll be able to show you stance though, and have you fight an invisible man."

Franchesca nodded eagerly, her mind going back to one night in Damascus when two guards had cornered her on the rooftop and she took up one of their swords. The weight of it! "I've held a sword before," She began, her mood suddenly drooping disappointedly. "It's too heavy."

"You can use mine." He stated, thanking Siobhan for the plate of bread and ham set before him. "Because I'm faster than I am strong, a light-weight blade was made for me so that I could move more flexibly, and to be more agile in general."

"Really?"

He nodded, "Father trained me, and requested the blade to be made especially. Just because the blade is lighter, doesn't mean it can't do just as much damage as any other sword."

Franchesca nodded, thanking the cook for her own breakfast as she began to dig in. "When do you want to start?" She asked.

"We'll wait a while after breakfast," He stated. "And also, another assassin is due to arrive this morning, so we can't be seen in the stables then. We will wait until he arrives and settles his horse in before we begin."

Franchesca smiled, "Alright."

"Would you like to go into town until then?"

She shook her head and grimaced, "I have a writing lesson at some point." She stated, "I've been putting it off for a few hours."

"I was wondering why you were later getting ready than usual." He commented, stuffing a slice of ham into his mouth.

Franchesca sighed, "I suppose reading is alright now that I can kind of make sense of everything," She began. "But writing is _completely _boring. And it makes my hand ache after a while."

Cameron nodded, "It's because you're not used to holding a quill. It's like swordplay," He sat back in his chair and gestured with his arms. "It's all about the practice. Everyone has to start somewhere. Malik writes all day; every day."

Franchesca grimaced, "He needs to take a break, I'm sure he gets bored. Doesn't he miss climbing and stuff?"

Cameron gave her a blank look, "I think you're forgetting he only has one arm."

She blushed, "I don't know how I could have forgotten that."

"We've all done it, sometimes to his face." He ran a hand through his hair, laughing nervously. "His temper remains the same."

As soon as they had finished breakfast, Franchesca made her way towards the library for her writing lesson whilst Cameron took a trip to the stables. Not only did the blonde want to groom his chestnut gelding, but he would await the arrival of the assassin that was coming that morning.

What he did not expect however, was to find Altair present. Grooming his own black stallion.

"If you spent as much time with a woman as you did grooming your horse, you would have yourself a very satisfied wife." Altair stated, taking note that the younger assassin was up and about.

"I could say the same to you." Cameron replied, "But I suppose you have been spending an awful lot of time with my sister."

Altair ignored the comment, merely continuing to run the brush across the horses velvet coat. "I trust the doctor has allowed you to move around?"

Cameron nodded, bringing up a wet sponge to wash the gelding, "As long as I don't do anything too strenuous. I cannot go running just yet." He responded. "Have you any idea when Sphen is arriving?"

"Sometime this morning." He replied, "And he plans to make a move on Franchesca. I overheard him speaking with a few brothers when I was last in Masyaf."

Cameron nodded, "I suppose I will have to speak with him before he spots her. I don't like him."

"Have you always?" Altair asked, smirking. "Or did you come to that conclusion within the last minute?"

Cameron shrugged, "It doesn't matter. I cannot allow him to be a distraction; '_he with the oh-so-handsome face, carved by the angels themselves. He with the oh-so-luscious red locks that seduce all women'_." Cameron scoffed, "Whores really do talk a load of crap sometimes."

Altair shook his head, "He is to assassinate a slaver in the poor district. I doubt he will be here for long."

Cameron disagreed, "You remember Shof's sister?"

"She is to marry Raan?"

The blonde nodded his head, "Sphen took three weeks to complete a mission in Acre, to chase her. A mission that could have been done in four days. Such an easy Target."

"Sounds like you're describing Shof's sister."

"You and her?" Cameron looked shocked, "She is not pure?"

"She wasn't even when I lay with her."

Cameron shook his head in disbelief, "When I pursued her, she seemed to be a closed book."

"That is because you are useless with women."

The younger assassin frowned, "I am not useless-"

"-You listen to the gossip of whores, because you lay with whores." Altair interrupted, "Have you had the daughter of a wealthy merchant? A virgin set to wed someone else? A young woman who does not work in a brothel?"

"No."

"Then perhaps you need to practice your seduction skills. I'm sure you could speak to Sphen as a way to keep him away from your sister."

The sound of approaching hooves caused both assassin and Master Assassin to turn their heads towards the entrance of the stables. A beautiful grey mare trotted inside, her snowy forelock falling gracefully down the side of her cheek; her long tail swishing to and fro with an air of high maintenance. Sphen dismounted, throwing back his hood and running a hand through his copper curls. But once he realised that only two of his brothers stood before him rather than the raven haired young lady which he had expected to greet him upon his arrival, he nodded once before leading his magnificently polished pony into one of the free stables.

Altair shook his head at the ridiculously performed display to continue grooming his stallion whereas Cameron stood open mouthed, with his eyebrows knitted together in disgust as the newly arrived assassin began to untack his horse.

"What the hell was that?"

Sphen looked up at Cameron's outburst and sighed with a large heave of his shoulders, "I was hoping your sister would have been here to greet me," He began, smirking. "I heard that she was very beautiful…and lived in a brothel for twenty years."

Cameron threw down the brush in his hand, earning himself a warning look from Altair. "Why would she be here to greet you? She knows nothing about you."

"She may know me, if she wishes."

Altair grasped Cameron's robes at the scruff of his neck from over the side of the stable to hold him back, "Oh yeah?" The blonde growled, "Well, I doubt she would want to even cast one glance in your direction."

"You say you '_doubt'_, that is not a definite observation, Cameron. I'm sure she is old enough to decide for herself." He placed the saddle on the side of the stable before picking up a wet rag from a bucket, to give the horse some relief from her sweaty back. "Isn't she marvellous?" Sphen asked, "Many women have commented on her beauty…even those who have never ridden."

"Why don't you make your home in the Bureau?" Cameron growled.

"And miss an opportunity like this?" Sphen grinned towards the entrance to the stables, and Cameron prayed to whatever Lord above that whoever was about to enter was _not _Franchesca.

"One more hour with that man," The raven haired girl began, flinging her hair out of her face as she stepped into the stables. "And I will do more than fling that stupid book off of the balcony!" She ignored both Sphen and Altair, and rested both arms upon the stable in which Cameron was occupying. "When is this assassin getting here?"

Cameron grinned towards his sister. He had forgotten that she was easily irritated after her lessons, perhaps this would mean she would be rude towards Sphen and put him off?

"We're you waiting for my arrival?"

The raven haired girl turned towards the new voice, "Actually, I was." She stated, "I don't mean to sound rude but could you please hurry up and finish tending to your horse?" She turned to Altair, "And can you as well?" She sighed, "And then both of you get out of the stables?"

"Charming." Altair commented, turning back to his black stallion.

"I do not believe we have been introduced," Sphen began. "I am Sphen Yasin, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

She nodded towards him, "Yes-" The raven haired girl then took notice of his horse and she smiled, "She's lovely."

Sphen grinned at Cameron as the raven haired girl made her way towards his stable. "She is, isn't she?"

Franchesca stood outside the stall as the horse stood by the door. Gently, she ran her hand along the mare's long nose, "What is her name?"

"Nazar. It means vow; because she has been very loyal to me."

Altair rolled his eyes, and one glance towards Cameron gave the Master Assassin reason to believe that things were not about to settle down.

"Franchesca?" Cameron cleared his throat, and beckoned for her to come back over towards his own stable. She looked up at him and nodded before turning back to the lady killer. Steam began to protrude from the blonde Assassins ears, so much so that he could no longer hear the conversation between the two of them. Cameron turned to Altair, "He uses his horse?" He whispered harshly.

"Shouldn't you be making notes?" Was the only response he received from the Master Assassin.

Franchesca shook her head at the assassin, "I'm spending the afternoon with Cameron." She stated.

"Then what about tomorrow?"

Again, she shook her head, "I have a writing lesson in the morning. Then I'm going into town to see Dominic."

Sphen raised an eyebrow in confusion, "The Duke's son?" He questioned.

Before Cameron could open his mouth, the sound of a stable door closing behind him followed by booted footsteps, alerted the blonde to the fact that Altair was about to step in.

Franchesca was – not roughly, yet not kindly – shoved in the direction of Cameron's stable, before the two assassins began to converse in whispers so quiet, that the entire communication could have been from one simple look.

"Please don't talk to him." Was the first thing Cameron stated, grabbing onto Franchesca's forearm to pull her closer to hear his strained whisper.

The raven haired girl frowned, "Is something wrong?"

"He has ill intentions!" The 'yeah-right' look shot at him, encouraged the older brother to continue. "Seriously, we're assassins. Why do we need horses that attract that much attention?"

Franchesca shrugged, "He takes good care of her, what's the problem with that? And how does that explain his '_ill intentions_'?"

Cameron sighed, "Please, just trust me. He uses his horse to lure women in, and then he swoops in and asks to escort them into the town, he'll buy them a drink – or several – or until they are drunk enough that they don't know what they're doing, and don't care unless it's fun. Then BAM!" Franchesca jumped when he clapped his hands together in front of her face, "He has his way with them."

The raven haired girl sighed, and rolled her eyes at her brothers words, "Alright, well, did you not just hear me making excuses just now anyway?"

Cameron nodded, "Yeah, but that was the truth. You _are_ doing those things. You _are_ busy."

"Exactly." She grinned, "But I do not plan on spending time with him. You know how hard it is for me to be _alone _anyway."

Cameron's lips pulled up into a sickly-sweet smile, "Of course, how could I forget that you have your future-husband stalking you?"

Franchesca rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Look, I'm trying to hurry him up and get him to leave. Now that Altair is over there talking to him, _he _is not hurrying up and leaving." She sighed, "Let me hurry Sphen up, and you hurry Altair."

Cameron deadpanned, "No one can hurry Altair."

"Perhaps I can." She grinned, "I'm sure if I annoyed him a lot he would finish up quicker. You go and talk to Sphen."

"I hate him. Nothing good will come out of this."

Franchesca shrugged, "I don't care, just get rid of him."

Cameron grinned, "You do not understand how happy it makes me feel hearing you say those words!"

Franchesca moved over to the black stallions stall and frowned, "Altair!" She gasped, gaining the attention of the Master Assassin. "There is a cut on his foot!"

"It's a _hoof_." He corrected her, making his way towards the raven haired girl. "Which one?"

She looked down quickly, and – luckily – noticed a scar on the back right hoof_. _"That one." She pointed towards it and watched as Cameron patted his horse on the neck before leaving her to eat some hay, and quickly making his way towards Nazar and Sphen's stall.

"It's an old wound." Altair stated, crouching before the aforementioned hoof.

"How did he get it?" She asked then.

"Walking through water," The Master Assassin replied, rising to his full height and resuming his grooming duties. "He caught it on a sharp rock."

The strong horse head butted her shoulder, causing the raven haired girl to take a few steps back. She made her way forwards once again until her body was flush with the wooden stall, before raising her hand and gently stroking the stallions' muzzle. "Where?" She asked.

Altair, confused as to why she was suddenly really chatty, began to feel…_uncomfortable._ "Kingdom."

"I didn't see any water when we rode from Damascus."

"I was riding from Masyaf, to Acre."

"Do you think I'll ever be able to go there?" She asked, genuinely interested.

Altair glanced up at her, "To Masyaf?" He asked.

She shrugged, "To either."

"I suppose you will go to Masyaf one day." Altair replied, running the brush through the stallions' long mane. "But you would have to ask Demetri or Cameron if you wanted to see Acre."

"Could I not go alone?"

"I wouldn't advise you to go on your own. There are many dangers in every city, no matter what district you are in."

"Would you take me?"

He stopped what he was doing, and looked over at her once again before moving away and towards the back end of the horse to brush through his tail. "Not unless I am required to do so."

"What if…" She thought for a moment. "What if…" Franchesca sighed, "What if Dominic is mean, and turns out to be a slaver and someone from Acre buys me?"

"Then I suppose Dominic would be the one to take you there."

Perhaps her staring would make him leave (seeing as the conversation they were having was not making him groom the horse any faster!).

But she found that her staring was probably not such a good idea after all. Even through his thick white robes, she could tell that he _obviously _had muscle hiding underneath the material. The way his arms moved, his shoulders moved, his back…even his hands – killer hands! – were so gentle when dealing with the majestic animal before him. He groomed the horse with care, and Franchesca could tell that he must have a soft spot for this horse in particular…perhaps all horses even.

"Have you always had this horse?"

He paused brushing for a moment, glancing over towards her quickly before he continued. "No." He replied, "I stole him from a Templar when I had to make an escape, two months ago."

She nodded, "It's just that, you're so gentle with him."

Perhaps she had said the wrong thing, because he tensed up. Putting the brush down, Altair then tossed some hay into the corner of the stable and stepped out – Franchesca having to move to the side quickly before the wooden door caught her foot. - Altair said nothing more, but locked the door behind him and then turned and left the stables.

"Christ, what did you say?" Cameron asked from over by Sphen's stall – the latter still grooming his mare inside.

"Umm…" She began nervously, blushing a little. "I said that he was gentle with the horse."

Cameron burst into a fit of laughter, and Sphen scoffed, "Perhaps the only time he ever will be gentle."

Franchesca sighed, looking over towards the horse that Altair had _stolen_ before making her way towards Sphen's stall – watching his movements as to how he handled the horse before him. Despite saying that the horse was loyal towards him, his movements did not suggest that he had any kind of connection to the mare. Taking a quick look at Sphen's shoulders, back and hands, Franchesca did not find herself admiring the way that the man moved in comparison to the Master Assassin.

She ran her hand through the horses' forelock, frowning when something warm and sticky met her fingertips. Pulling her hand back, she gasped and threw her fingers into Cameron's face, "Oh my god!" She screamed, "There's blood on my hand!"

Cameron grasped hold of her wrist before she could wipe the offending liquid on his face, and inspected it, "What?" He asked himself, turning back to the horse and moving her forelock to the side. "Sphen!" He growled, "You've put her bridle on too tight! It's cut right into her skin!"

Franchesca ran from the stable to go and wash her hand quickly, unable to bring herself to look at the red staining her fingertips. The raven haired girl dodged two white robed men as she skidded along the wooden floorboards towards the kitchen. Once inside, she scrubbed her fingers clean – gagging upon eyeing the clear liquid turning a cloudy pink.

"I don't like him either." She concluded.

**A/N: A very Merry Christmas! Hope you all enjoyed the update, I wish you all a wonderful day :) xx**


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